Ready Now
by just.say.you're.not.into.it
Summary: Sequel to Fuel to the Fire.  Told in John O'Callaghan V's POV. Contains The Maine, A Rocket to the Moon, etc.
1. Ready When You Are

It's funny how life works. One minute, you and two of your best guy friends could be having a Nerf gunfight, and then the next minute, you could be stuck in a closet, trying not to listen to a conversation that wasn't meant for you to hear.

This was exactly what happened to Garrett and I. We thought Julia and Peyton were having a girl's day, so we thought we would have a boys day. We invited Jared over, and naturally, one thing led to another, and we ended up busting out the old Nerf guns. Julia frowned upon us using them around Will, but he wasn't here, so we took this golden opportunity to drink beer and gang up on Jared. The only thing was, the girls came back earlier than we anticipated. Garret and I were hiding in the hall closet, waiting to pounce on Jared, who, in all honesty, we had no idea where he was. If Garrett wasn't so scared of Julia, we could have come out already, but she would have been mad that we drank all of the beer and we lost all of the Nerf darts all around her house. She would find one eventually and we would be busted, but I guess Garrett didn't think too far into the future. I took a sip of my beer, set my gun down and waited for the girls to leave. This wasn't my idea of fun. I just hoped Jared got the memo, and stayed in his hiding place.

"How's married life?" Julia asked Peyton.

"Ugh" I grunted under my breath. "Can we sneak out? Does your house have trap doors?"

"Sorry bro," Garrett sighed, feeling my pain. It wasn't that I was jealous of Kennedy; I knew she was happy; it was just that no matter what I did, I would have never been enough for her. I guess in the long run, I should be glad that I wasn't good enough. I would have ended up ruining her life, and that would have ended up ruining mine.

"If she asks who was better in bed, I will kill myself," I whispered to Garrett, who was enjoying himself too much.

"Do girls talk about that shit? I thought it was only guys."

"Who fucking knows," I sighed. "Can we please just come out of the closet already."

"I'm married, but I mean, if you feel the need to come out of the closet, nothing is stopping you." Garrett chuckled to himself. I punched him hard enough to make a sound.

"What was that?" Peyton asked.

"I don't know, maybe it was Daisy. I saw Garrett's car outside, but I thought he was hanging out with John today. Maybe John came and got him."

"Dude, stop being scared of your wife. The fact that they will think we are eavesdropping on them will get you in more trouble than a fucking Nerf gunfight."

"You're right," Garrett said, standing up. Just as he was about to turn the doorknob, one of the girls said a word that made both of us freeze.

"Wait, what?" Julia asked.

"I don't know if I have just been stressed from recording, or the whole John/Kennedy situation, but I am three months late."

"Three months? You are just now telling me that you are three months late?"

"I bet it's nothing," Peyton sighed. I imagined she was pushing her bangs out of her face. It was what she did when she was frustrated.

"But I mean, you don't really think you are pregnant do you?"

"No. I don't know. I mean, I haven't been sick at all. I don't feel any different. I think its just stress."

"Car. Now." Julia said. I heard the dangling of keys.

"Why?"

"We need to find out if you are going to have a little Kennedy," Julia said. There were some protests from Peyton, but eventually we heard the door slam. Garrett and I came out of our hiding place and went to look for Jared, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. He heard the conversation too. None of us said a word about what we had just heard, we just skimmed the rooms, looking for the Nerf darts before Garrett got in trouble.

/\\/\\/\\

No matter what we did, I couldn't take my mind off of it. What if Peyton really was pregnant? She was my oldest friend, and it would honestly be weird to see her all puffy and pregnant.

"John," Garrett said, impersonating a zombie in the movie we were watching. "I want to eat your brains."

"God knows he doesn't have any. Does that mean you want mine?" Jared said, hopping up on the couch and grabbing a pillow to use as protection. Garrett hopped up as well. A duel was about to happen, and I didn't even feel like laughing at how stupid they looked.

"What did I tell you?" Peyton was asking as soon as she opened back door.

"Oh shut up. Garret, Jared, why are you standing on the couch?" Julia said, looking into the living room.

I got up to help them carry the bags in from outside. I grabbed a few and set them on the counter. Peyton's phone started ringing, and her face lit up as soon as she looked at the caller id. I assumed it was Kennedy. She took the call outside.

"Thanks for helping," Julia motioned to the groceries.

"Sure," I nodded, starting to unpack the bags. I finally hit the jackpot. I would no longer have to skirt around the fact that I overheard their conversation earlier.

"Is this…" I said, holding the pregnancy test in the air.

"Mine! Yep. That's mine." Julia said, nervously. "Don't tell Garrett," she whispered. Lying for your best friend. Something I have done, but not something I wanted Julia to be doing right now.

"Trying to give Will a little brother or sister?" I asked, leaning against the cabinet.

"Uh, not really trying," Julia shrugged, grabbing the box out of my hand. Just then Peyton entered the room and saw Julia holding the box. Her face fell as she looked from Julia to me and then back to Julia.

"You told him?" she asked, walking over and grabbing the box.

"No. I didn't, but you just did." Julia sighed, gathering all of the paper bags and stuffing them in the pantry.

"Don't tell Kennedy," she begged me. "Not that I even know if I am yet."

"What are you waiting for?" Julia asked, spanking Peyton and pushing her towards the bathroom.

This was almost entertaining, had it not been Peyton and Kennedy's lives that may or may not have been about to change.

/\\/\\/\\

"It's negative," Peyton said, strolling out of the bathroom like a boss.

"Alright!" Julia said, giving her a high five.

"Those things are wrong a lot," I said, popping a grape into my mouth. Peyton just glared at me.

"Whatever."

"They really are. You should go to a doctor just to make sure."

"No, that's stupid."

"I was just trying to help."

"Peyton, he has a point," Julia chimed in.

"Are you kidding me? Fine. Let's go Julia."

"Can't. Garrett and I are having dinner with his parents."

"I'll take you and then I will drop you off at home when we're done," I said, grabbing my keys.

"Fine, but this is an absolute waste of time."

"Maybe it is, but at least you'll know for sure."

/\\/\\/\\

"I fucking hate the doctor. And I fucking hate you," was all she said to me the whole drive. I guess she REALLY wanted me to know. It was mid-afternoon so barely anyone was here. Just a few couples with screaming infants. Not my idea of fun.

"What if you were pregnant? Would Kennedy be freaked out?" I asked, looking around the waiting room.

"Probably not. I mean. We've only been married a few days. It's a little soon. I'm only 22. I don't want kids yet. I'm not pregnant."

"Okay," I said, throwing my hands up in defeat. "Let's just leave then."

"Really?" she asked.

"Peyton Brock," the receptionist called. That one stung a little bit. I hadn't actually heard anyone call her that yet.

"Let's just go so we can prove to everyone that I am, for a fact, not pregnant," she said, grabbing her jacket. "Are you coming?"

/\\/\\/\\/\\

"Do these posters have to be so graphic?" I asked, feeling like I might lose my lunch any second.

"Oh god, I know. I feel like they are trying to scare you into abstaining from sex."

"That would work for me," I said, sitting down. They had already taken blood and gotten Peyton to pee in a cup, which I thought was funny. She hated doing that. We were just awaiting the results. The knock on the door had me nervous, but not Peyton.

"Mrs. Brock," the doctor said, taking a seat and opening her charts. "Our tests show that you are, in fact, pregnant. Congratulations!"

I don't think I had ever seen someone turn that shade of white in my whole entire life. The force she used to grip the chair was making me hurt. I felt sorry for that chair.

"If you would hop up here, we can use the ultrasound to tell how far along you are," the doctor continued without even noticing that Peyton had forgotten how to breath.

"Peyton," I said, nudging her with my arm. Nothing. "Peyton,"

"There has to be a mistake," she said, finally looking at the doctor. "You're wrong. I'm not pregnant."

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, flipping back through her charts, "but you are. Now if you would just let us see how far along you are and schedule your next appointment, you could be on your way. Mr. Brock, can you help me get her over here?"

"He's not my husband," Peyton said, still staring straight ahead. It seemed like she was in shock.

It took us a while to get her to cooperate, but we found out that she was three and a half months pregnant.

On the drive home neither of us talked, but I knew she was thinking the same thing I was.

There was just as much of a chance that this baby could be mine as there was that it could be Kennedy's.

That was probably why Peyton was silently crying in the passengers seat.

So much for her happy ending.


	2. The More You Talk The Less I Hear

The lack of communication happening during this car ride was enough to drive me completely insane. Peyton was still staring out of the window, in shock. Her perfect world had become cloudy, and guess who was the one to cloud it. This guy. If only we hadn't have hooked up a few months ago, she wouldn't be pregnant, or maybe she would be, who knew. Then it would have definitely been Kennedy's one hundred percent.

"We fucked up," she whispered, still looking out of the window.

So she had thought about the possibility of this not being Kennedy's child. I didn't know what to say, so I just kept driving, keeping my thoughts to myself. "We fucked up so bad," she continued.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," I sighed.

"I'm married, John. I have been married for approximately three days and now I am pregnant with a child that could or could not be my husbands," she choked out, wiping her eyes. "What am I going to do?"

I pulled the car over on the side of the road and put it in park. I faced her and thought about all of her options. She didn't have many.

"The way I see it, you have two choices. You can go home and tell Kennedy the truth, or you can go home and not tell Kennedy the truth."

"I can't lie to him, John."

"Why not? You were so good at lying to me." It was out of my mouth before I even had a chance to think about it. I really had gotten over that. It happened months ago. Whatever. It was something that I shouldn't have said, but now it was too late. She pursed her lips and looked out of the window again.

"Sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out. I just meant that if you had to, I am sure that you could play it off like this was his baby. I mean, who knows Peyton. It very well could be. We could be worrying over nothing."

"That's not the point, John," she shook her head. "You don't understand. I wanted a family. You knew that. I have always wanted a family," she paused and finally looked at me. "But I wanted a normal family. Not a fucked up family. I wanted to wait until I was mature enough. I got married young, because I know Kennedy is the man I am supposed to be with. I wanted to wait until I was at least 25 to start even thinking about kids, but look at me now."

"I know, Lainey," I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my head on the back of the seat.

"Don't call me that anymore," she sniffed. "Please," she added, when she saw the hurt look on my face. I gazed out of my window and watched the cars pass by, wondering if the people inside were harboring lives as messed up as ours. We screwed up, that much was clear. We were facing the consequences months later. That was what growing up was all about.

"I need to tell Kennedy," she finally said, breaking the silence. "Our marriage can make it through something like this. It may have just started, but I know things will be okay."

"Are you going to tell him tonight?"

"Well, I am three and half months pregnant, John. I am going to start showing soon. I thought my jeans were just fitting tighter because I was stressed and eating more, but oh hey, guess what, I am with child," she said, rather sarcastically. I started the car back up and merged onto the road. I wasn't in the mood for this. I understood that she didn't particularly want to have a child so early in her life, but she hadn't even asked me how I was.

I was scared shitless. What if this was my child? What if I was a terrible father? What if it ended up being in a situation like Cameron's? What if Peyton didn't want me around and Kennedy assumed the role as this child's father, just like Garrett did with Will? Would I be okay with that? Would she actually let that happen? It wasn't even like that with Garrett and Cameron anyway. Cameron had his chance to step up and be a father. He never took it. I was getting way ahead of myself. Chances are this child wasn't even mine. Peyton and I only had sex twice the whole time we have known each other. One time happened over a year ago, the other just a few months ago. It was spur of the moment, and totally not romantic, and now, potentially, leading us to bigger problems. As she put it so bluntly earlier, we fucked up.

/\\/\\/\\

"Do you want me to go in with you?" I asked after we had idly sat in front of her house for around ten minutes.

"Yes," she nodded. "No," she said unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her bag. "Fuck. Yes, come on O'Callaghan," she growled, climbing out of my car and slamming the door. I took a deep breath and followed her lead, walking down the path that lead to her front door, and ultimately, to her husband. I stood awkwardly waiting for her to unlock the door, which apparently stuck, so she said. She jiggled it a few times and pushed hard, the door flew open, pulling her with it.

"You need to fix that, soon." I said, grabbing her arm before she completely ate the hardwood floor.

"No kidding," she sighed, righting herself and fixing her dress.

"Peyton?" I heard Kennedy call out from somewhere inside of the beast of a house too big for a three person family. Lucky for the house, another member was on the way.

"Yeah it's me. We need to fix this god damned fucking piece of shit door, Kennedy," she yelled back.

"Yeah, daddy. It's a pansy door," Olivia chimed in, running through the foyer in a princess dress, with finger paint dripping down her arms. "UNCLE JOHN!"

"Hey squirt," I said, holding my hand up for a high five, dumb on my part since I had previously seen the finger paint collected on her paws.

"Want to paint with me?" she asked.

"Actually, I need to talk to Peyton and your daddy for a few minute. What do you say you go wash your hands and work on that chord progression I taught you last week. Come get me in twenty minutes and show me."

She nodded, fervently and ran up the stairs. I wiped the paint on my jeans.

"John's here?" Kennedy asked, rounding the corner. As soon as I saw him, I thought that maybe this wasn't the best idea. This might have been something Peyton needed to tell him alone. Me being here was only going to make things worse. I was here for moral support, but Kennedy was about to have his ego bruised a little, and me being here, well he would think that I was rubbing it in his face, and believe me, that was the last thing I was doing.

"Kennedy," Peyton said, biting her lip, which made Kennedy shift his weight from one foot to the other. I had known both of them for years. These were both things they did when they were nervous. "We need to talk."

Kennedy ran his fingers through his hair roughly and wiped his eyes. He was tired and not in the mood, but he was going to listen to whatever it was Peyton had to say, because he loved her that much. I could tell.

"Okay," he finally said with a nod.

"I went to the doctor today," Peyton said, setting her bag down on the table in the foyer, slowly leading us to the living room. I followed behind them, only thinking about the choice of weaponry Kennedy would use to kill me with. It was becoming like a game of clue in my head. "Kennedy Brock with the microphone chord in the closet under the stairs."

I sat down on the couch and grabbed a throw pillow, a little protection to shield me from the oncoming attack.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern in his tone literally made me want to vomit. So much love in this room and none of it was for me. Stop feeling sorry for yourself little emo boy. This game of Clue may have a different ending. "It was John O'Callaghan, hanging himself in the basement."

"I'm fine," she smiled, placing her hand over his, trying to calm him. He lifted her hand to his lips for a brief kiss and I could feel my lunch start to make reappearance. I wondered if they were like this all of the time or if it was just in front of me. Something told me they were like this all of the time.

"Then what's going on?" he asked, looking from her to me, and then back to her, waiting for some sort of explanation. It wasn't going to come from me, that's for sure.

"I know we wanted to wait," she started, and I could hear the emotion in her tone, she was going to lose it any second, "and we're only 22, and we just got married, but" and then she lost it.

"You're pregnant?" he guessed. Bingo. She just nodded.

"We're going to be parents?" he asked, unexpected excitement radiating through the room. It took Peyton by surprise, and she just stared at him. "Why do I feel like you aren't excited about this?" he asked. "There's no need to cry," he said, using his thumb to gently wipe away her tears.

"Kennedy," she grabbed his hand, pulling it away from her face. Here it comes. His confused face just made it that much harder for her to say it. I almost spoke up, but again, it wasn't my place.

"There's a possibility," she paused, trying to find the words it seemed, "a few months ago," she stopped again to take a deep breath, "when you were with Gabi, and I was seeing other people-" she stopped to wipe the tears away, but Kennedy wasn't stupid. He had already caught on. He knew I was there for a reason.

"Don't," he ripped his hand away from Peyton's grasp and started pacing back and forth. "If the next words that come out of your mouth have anything to do with the possibility of that baby not being mine, don't even."

"Kennedy," Peyton stood up.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he asked, glaring at me. I slowly nodded my head, placing the pillow back on the couch.

"After you stole her virginity, you had the audacity to have sex with her again?"

"You were with Gabi, Kennedy. What was she supposed to do, wait around for you?"

"Why him?" Kennedy asked, looking back towards Peyton. "God damn it, Peyton. How long have you been pregnant?"

"Three and a half months," she merely whispered.

"THREE AND A HALF MONTHS AND YOU JUST WENT TO THE DOCTOR?"

"I DIDN'T SHOW ANY NORMAL SYMPTOMS. WILL YOU STOP YELLING AT ME AND TALK TO ME?"

Kennedy just shook his head and looked from Peyton to me.

"Get out of my house." Then he looked at Peyton. "Both of you."

"Kennedy," she started.

"I can't talk to you right now. I need time to think about this."

"You can't be mad at me for something that happened when we weren't together," she said, wiping the mascara from her face, only to smear it more.

"I can't. You're right. But we're married Peyton. We have been married for exactly three days, and you are carrying a child that may not even be mine. I can't process this right now. I can't look at you and not think of anything but you fucking John," he sighed, and then slowly ascended the stairs, letting us know that this conversation was over.

/\\/\\/\\

"Oh god," Peyton said, burying her head in her hands. "He hates me. He's going to get our marriage annulled and act like it never happened. I will be a single parent, totally fucked."

"He doesn't hate you," I reassured her, weaving in and out of Tempe traffic, "He isn't going to get your marriage annulled. And don't ever think that you will go through this alone. You have me, and you have Julia."

"He's going to throw all of my shit out on the lawn, going to kick me out," she said, totally ignoring what I had just said, wiping her nose on the sleeve on my hoodie I let her borrow. How charming.

"Peyton, stop it." I sighed. She always did this.

"He doesn't want me anymore. He won't ever want to touch me anymore. He thinks I am tainted. Why did I ever have sex with you?"

"Peyton, you are starting to make me feel worse than I already do," I sighed, getting more annoyed with her ranting.

"Six more months until this thing comes out. Is it going to be like this for six months? Will my husband not want to look at me for six months? Will he hate me until we find out who's baby this is? What if this is your baby, John? What is he going to do?"

"Peyton, first of all. Shut the fuck up and actually listen to me. Kennedy is not going to leave you. If this baby happens to be mine, he is going to deal with it, because he loves you, anyone could see that. He wouldn't have given you that ridiculous sunrise wedding if he didn't love you. He would do anything for you. If this baby isn't his, well then you get to spend the rest of your lives popping out kids. You have more chances. He has a kid with another woman, do you still love that kid like it was your own?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded.

"Do you have any doubt in your mind that Kennedy wouldn't love this kid as much as you love Olivia?"

"This is different John. "

I pulled into my driveway and stared at the house I grew up in. My parent's wouldn't be too happy to see me right now, but they would get over it. They hadn't seen Peyton since we were in summer camp. They briefly met her once or twice. They heard a lot about her, but I would never let them meet her, not until I knew if it was going to work out. Now I had no choice. There was nowhere left to go right now. Peyton didn't want to tell anyone about the pregnancy right now, we were still trying to wrap our brains around it.

"So this is casa de O'Callaghan?"

"This is it."

As soon as I unlocked the door, my mom and dad were all over me, asking me questions as to why I was there. I just told them that I didn't want to explain, I would talk to them in the morning. I did the introductions. Peyton seemed thrilled to finally meet my parents, and they seemed to like her, but I was tired, and we had had a long day.

I rushed her up the stairs into my bedroom before my parents could ask her any more questions.

"I'm sorry. I just never bring girls home, so they tend to freak out."

"It's fine," she shrugged. "Can I have something to sleep in?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to remember if I did laundry this week. Or even this month. I found a Ryan Adams shirt and some boxers, which seemed good enough for her. She started getting undressed right in front of me, which made me really uncomfortable. My gaze lingered on her stomach unintentionally. It wasn't as flat as it once was. It wasn't enough to notice or alert Peyton that she was with child, obviously, but now that we knew, you could tell. I turned around and turned my computer on. I knew she had to have music on to sleep. Certain things about her I would never forget.

I turned on a playlist of Brighten and Ryan Adams for her.

"I'll sleep on the floor." I said, grabbing a pillow off of my bed.

"Don't be stupid, John. I know you aren't going to try anything," she yawned and rolled over. I flipped off the light and climbed into bed, hoping that tomorrow would bring a better day.

I don't see how it could have been any worse than today.


	3. Twice As Bad As Love

The sound of knocking pulled me out of my deep sleep. My eyes fluttered open and shot towards the door, then back to Peyton, who currently had her arm haphazardly thrown across my torso. Her heavy breathing, one could have almost constituted it as snoring, was causing her bangs to blow up, airborne for a moment and then fall back on her face. How was the tickling not waking her up?

"Johno," I heard my dad call from the other side of the door. I carefully removed Peyton's arm from on top of me and climbed out of bed. She stirred for a second then flopped onto her stomach, her usual sleeping position. She wouldn't be able to do that for long. I chuckled and walked over to the door, opening it slowly and slipping out of quickly before it woke up Sleeping Beauty.

"Yeah, dad?" I asked as soon as I closed the door behind me.

"Someone's downstairs to see you," he said, rubbing the side of his face. I looked at the clock hanging on the wall and saw that it was around 6:30 in the morning.

"Go back to bed, dad," I said, clasping a hand on his should. He nodded and started walking towards his bedroom.

"You know," he paused and faced me again, "your mom and I miss having you here. It's actually kind of nice."

I smiled and nodded. I thought they didn't want me to stay here. Shows how much I knew. I guess I wasting time trying to find places to stay. All of my stuff was still in California, but I couldn't go back now. Not with Peyton's condition, and the fact that this child could possibly be mine. I had to move back.

I walked down the stairs, almost tripping over a stray shoe one of my brothers left lying around. I would have never gotten away with that shit. Maybe my parents were getting soft in their older age.

I peeked around the corner to see who it was. I sighed and emerged from around the corner, leaning against the door frame, my arms crossed.

"Hey," I said, making him jump at least a foot in the air.

"Shit," he whispered under his breath, turning around to face me. "'Scared me."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, crossing my arms. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept all night. Good.

"I messed up," he said.

"Yeah, you think?"

"Is she okay?"

"Not really," I answered, unfolding my arms and shrugging. "She will be, though." I added when Kennedy's face fell even more than the solemn expression he brought along with him.

"John," he started, but never finished. I waited, but he never continued.

"Yes?" I encouraged him to tell me whatever it was he started.

"I think we need talk. Just you and me. Without Peyton. We need to discuss what is going to happen."

"You mean what is going to happen if this baby happens to be mine?"

"Or mine," he sighed, flopping down on the couch.

"Well," I scratched the back of my neck and waited for him to say something. This conversation was so painful and it hadn't even started.

"I understand that what happened between you and Peyton happened when I was with Gabi. It doesn't make it hurt any less that you slept with her after all we have been through."

"Kennedy," I shook my head. I was not in the mood to hear how this was my fault. "You went back to Gabi. I understand that you had to because you wanted to keep Olivia. I understand that, trust me, I do. I just don't think it's fair that you thought Peyton was going to wait for you. You know what a great girl she is, what a catch she is. It wasn't like I was the only one who went after her. She was dating Ben as well as me."

"John, you have been my friend for years. Isn't there a bro code? You don't go after your best friend's ex. Especially not his ex fiancé."

"Kennedy, let's think back to that tour where Julia and Peyton tagged along with us. Who was with her then?"

Kennedy didn't miss a beat. "Eric. And you knew that. The whole time, you knew that they were still together, but you still made moves on her."

"Yeah," I grunted, tapping my fingertips on the wall. "I have changed since then, Kennedy. I didn't have sex with Peyton because I wanted to take her away from you. I had sex with her because I loved her. I still do, but it doesn't matter. I've changed, and it doesn't matter if this baby is yours or mine, this isn't going to ruin your marriage. It won't if you don't let it. If you keep acting the way you did last night, though, kiss it goodbye. She needs you right now."

"She needs both of us, doesn't she?" he asked, shaking his head. "Why did I think that once I married her, things would be normal? Nothing really is normal when you are with Peyton, is it?"

"Nope," I agreed. "She really knows how to shake things up." I took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Look, it's obvious that she does need both of us, and until the baby is," I paused, just thinking about the reality of all of this, "here, we won't know who the father is. So are you going to be okay with me being around all of the time?"

"Honestly, no. But for Peyton, I kind of have to be, don't I?"

"It would mean a lot to me if you were okay with it," Peyton chimed in, hopping off of the last stair. "I know I have put you through a lot, Kennedy. Well, both of you through a lot," she said looking at me, her messy hair thrown up in a bun on the very top of head, bobbing when she talked. I was trying not to stare at it, but I couldn't help it. It was hypnotizing. "But this is just as hard for me. I never meant to hurt you," she said, looking at Kennedy. "I don't want you to think that our marriage is fucked up already. It isn't. This baby won't change anything. I still love you more than you could even begin to know."

"I love you too," he said, giving her a half smile. "Nothing's going to change," he agreed.

I hope this was true. Somehow, I didn't think it was going to be that easy.

/\\/\\/\\

After Kennedy left with Peyton, I climbed the stairs to my room hoping to catch up on the sleep I had missed. The whole household was still in dreamland, and I was jealous. I was beat. I opened my door and flopped down onto my bed, landing on top of something hard that was digging into my back. I pulled it out from under me and just stared at it. It was a cd case, housing a blank cd, with a sticky note attached to the back.

_Listen, and then call me. I need to ask you a question._

I grunted and hopped to my feet, opening the cd case and popping the blank cd into my computer. I fell back onto my bed and waited for whatever was on it to load. My itunes popped up, and the first track filled my room. At first, I didn't pay it much attention, thinking it was a mixed cd she had made me, but why would she do that?

It wasn't until I heard the voice, her voice, that I understood. This was what she had been working on for the past two months. This was what she went to California for. I sat up and stared at my computer in awe. I picked up my phone and dialed her number, waiting for her to pick up.

"That was fast," she greeted me. I could hear the smile in her voice.

"It sounds," I contemplated, searching my brain for the right word. "It sounds so fucking sick."

Those weren't the right words, but I went with it. She just laughed and said something to Kenny. Then I heard a door close, and she started talking in whispered tones.

"Listen," she breathed heavily into the phone. "I don't have a lot of time to talk, but I need to ask you something."

"Sure," I said, turning the volume down on my computer.

"My producer says that track three is seriously lacking. He said that I needed to do collaboration with another artist. I don't know if you have even listened to it yet, but I have an idea for it."

"I haven't listened yet, but tell me."

"Well, I leave for California next week to put the finishing touches on this record. I wanted to ask if you would come with me. The song needs male vocals," she sighed, "and since I wrote the song when I was dating both you and Ben-"

"Now I really need to listen," I said, fast-forwarding to the track we were currently discussing.

"Well, the song is basically about being ripped in two directions and not knowing which way to go, so I figured it needed two totally different male vocals. Why not use the vocals of the two males it was written about."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and just stared at it for a moment. I shook my head and slowly brought the phone back to my ear.

"In theory, it sounds really amazing, but do you really think Ben and I are going to agree to work together?"

"If you both love me, you will," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Honestly Peyton," I ran my fingers through my hair, making it stick up in various directions. "Can't you just get your husband to do vocals? He can sing. Last Call for Camden, does that ring a bell."

"I know he can sing, dipshit. His voice isn't what I need though. He wouldn't be able to get the emotion right anyway. I need you. I need Ben. I need you both in LA next week to fix the song."

I sighed and listened to the song softly playing in the background. She was right. It did need some work.

"I don't know how me going to work on your record with you is going to help your marriage any."

"Why does that matter? Kennedy will be fine with it," she informed me.

"Is that why you have currently locked yourself in a closet? No, a bathroom. To much echo to be a closet. You are whispering. You don't want him to know, coward."

"I am not a coward. I just think that I don't need to test his trust anymore today. Please say you will do this for me, John. Please."

"I will do it on one condition," I said, throwing the cd case onto my pillow.

"And what is that?"

"Ben and I are around each other as little as possible."

"Deal," she agreed. Then my end of the line went silent as she hung up on me.

/\\/\\/\\

"Couldn't you have gotten him another flight?" I asked Peyton as soon as Ben entered my view.

"Be nice, John. He didn't do anything wrong. I was the one you should be mad at. Not him."

I just grunted, picking up my duffel bag. "You promised we wouldn't be around each other that much. Why couldn't he have come, I don' know, a few days later?"

"Shut up," she punched me. I rubbed my arm and looked at her.

"Whatever, coward." Her face fell as she glared at me. I had been calling her that all week. Besides the two of us and Kennedy, nobody else knew she was pregnant. Not even Julia. I didn't know why she was so scared to tell everyone.

"Can it, O'Callaghan," she said, picking up her duffel bag and leaving me to go greet Ben.

This weekend was not going to be a bust. Stupid Ben.

We wasted no time. As soon as Phil picked us up, and Ben and I watched him and Peyton do their disturbing secret handshake, we went to the studio and immediately started working. Her producer, Ted, was only there for the first hour to make sure that our voices were, in fact, what the track needed. Then he left.

"He doesn't watch over you like a hawk?" I asked Peyton, playing with some of the dials on the soundboard.

"Nah," she shrugged. "If he did, this record would have turned out a lot different. He tried to change so much, but I didn't let him."

"Good for you," I smiled.

"Alright Ben," she spun her chair around to face him. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help but hate the guy. Call me immature if you want. I guess I was.

"Let's do this," he smiled, walking into the makeshift studio.

"Did you record the whole cd like this?" I asked pointing to the tiny closet, just like the one I made for her when we recorded our song.

"Yup. I think it actually makes the music sound better. And it pissed off Ted," she shrugged. "I did that as often as I could. Plus, it's pretty much all I know, you know," she smiled at me. I smiled back and nodded.

/\\/\\/\\

My head hurt, and Ben was nervous. He had been in there for a few hours and had no decent takes. Peyton rubbed her temples and closed her eyes.

"Fuck," Ben said, kicking the wall of the small room when he messed up, yet again.

"You know what this reminds me of, right?" I asked.

"Oh when I sucked it up?" she glared at me and then stood up from her chair. "Man the board, O'Callaghan. I'll give you the signal."

I nodded, and then sat back and crossed my arm. I probably shouldn't have listened in, but I did. I put the headphones on and pushed the button, their voices suddenly filled my ears.

"What's going on? Why are you so nervous?" she asked him.

"Fucking John O'Callaghan is sitting out there, listening to me fuck up. He intimidates the shit out of me. He has done nothing but glare at me the whole time. Besides a snippy hello, he hasn't said one word to me. I bet he's out there fucking gloating because I am sucking this up so bad right now."

"John isn't like that, Ben. He comes across as a dick sometimes, but he isn't. He's here to help., but right now, I need you to forget he is out there. I need you to look me in the eyes and repeat after me. I can do this."

I heard Ben let out a small sigh. "I can do this."

"I am going to forget that John O'Callaghan is out there, more than likely listening to what I am saying right now."

"I am going to forget that John O'Callaghan is out there, and if he is listening to this, I will make sure he never sings again."

I chuckled and took the headphones off, waiting for Peyton's signal. A few minutes later, she stuck her hand out of the booth and gave me a thumbs up. I pushed the playback button along with the record button and waited to see if Ben was going to suck it up some more.

He didn't. There was something about singing with someone else that made you feel more at ease. I couldn't explain it. I know it seems like that would make you more nervous, but it doesn't. Especially with Peyton. She had a way of calming you down.

By the time we had Ben's vocals perfected and recorded, we were all beat.

"Can we order a pizza and watch a movie?" I asked, turning the lights off behind me as we left the recording studio. Everyone in the whole place had already gone home, but Peyton had a key. My recording studio never gave me a key.

"Oh god," Peyton said, holding her stomach. "No pizza. Yes movie. How about Chinese?"

"I have to be in the mood for Chinese," Ben piped in. "What about In-N-Out?"

"I eat that too much," I sighed. "Chipotle?"

Both Ben and Peyton nodded. "Do you know where one is?" Peyton asked.

"I know where every Chipotle is in every major city that has one. Let's go," I said, pulling out my phone to call Phil to come get us.

/\\/\\/\\

"If he nails it in one take, I am killing myself," I heard Ben whisper to Peyton. I just chuckled and assumed my position behind the microphone, my favorite place in the world.

Two takes, and I was done.

Peyton gave me a high-five as I came out of the booth, and Ben didn't even look at me.

"Is that it?" I asked, plopping down in a spinny chair.

"I have to fix one song real quick, while I have you here to work all of that," she said, pointing to the soundboard. "Shouldn't take long. It's only one part." With that, she skipped her way into the booth, and started warming up.

"I know you don't like me," Ben sighed, playing with a hole in his jeans. "I understand why you wouldn't. I just wanted you to know that I didn't know she was dating you at the same time. I would have never done that to you, or anyone for that matter. That's not the kind of guy I am."

I turned around and looked at him. "I know," I sighed. "I don't mean to be a dick to you. I just can't help it."

"I guess I can understand that."

"She was the most important thing to me for so long," I said, glancing towards the booth. "It hurt like hell when she did that to me. To us," I corrected myself, my gaze returning to Ben. "I have spent too much energy hating you for something that wasn't your fault. I ruined your big break as well."

"No, I was the one who pulled off of the tour," he ran his hand over his face. "I just hope we can put all of this shit behind us."

"Me too," I nodded.

"I have just one question, and I may cross the line," he hesitated.

"Go ahead."

"She wasn't with Kennedy when that porn tape leaked," he started. I just waited for him to finish. "You still had a chance to win her back. How could you have let that happen?"

"I am going to let you in on a little secret. Kennedy and Peyton, they are always together, even if they aren't officially together. Their love is too strong, and even when they are broken up, they are miserable because they belong together. I knew it was only a matter of time before they ended up together again. Maybe I just wanted them to be together again and realize that they were being stupid and stubborn."

"Wait a minute," Ben said, catching on. "You wanted them to be together?"

"They belong together," I said. "When I said goodbye to Peyton before I went on tour, it was hard. I made her cry, and we yelled and fought. It was then that I realized that we weren't supposed to be together. She told me once that she would always love me." This was hard to say out loud, especially to someone I had hated a mere minute ago. "I couldn't have that. If I knew that she would always love me, I would hold onto that hope and always be waiting for her to make a move. That isn't fair to me. It isn't fair to her. I had to make her realize that she didn't need to love me anymore. Her loving me was only causing problems."

"So what you are saying is that it was all intentional?"

"I shot the video myself," I nodded. It sounded terrible when I said it out loud. Hell, it sounded terrible when I didn't.

"You let yourself go through those repercussions just to make Peyton realize that she belonged with Kennedy?"

"That's what love is about, isn't it?" I asked, rubbing the back of my neck, suddenly wishing I would have never told Ben. "Love makes you do stupid shit. That was the dumbest thing I have ever done, but look at her. She's happy. She's married. She's recording her first record. She's doing what she wants, living by her own terms. I would like to think that that video gave her that final push, you know."

Ben was staring at me, his facial expression mixed between shock and awe. The cat was now out of the bag. Question was, was Ben going to keep this between us or was he going to run his mouth?

/\\/\\/\\

Ben was asleep in the window seat, and Peyton hadn't calmed down since we left LA.

"My first record is done," she said, shoving my shoulder with hers. "All of the hard work is going to pay off. I can feel it."

"It will pay off. It's amazing."

"I just feel bad that Julia couldn't come and finish it with us."

"Well, I have heard that when you have a kid, your life kind of takes the backseat."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Looking forward to that."

"Are you going to tell anyone soon?"

"Sure," she shrugged.

"Somehow, I feel like you aren't telling people because of me. If you knew for a fact that this was Kenny's baby, everybody would know by now."

She just bit her lip and stared at her hands.

"Ah-ha. Figured you out," I smiled weakly, elbowing her playfully.

"They are going to think I am a slut," she sighed, leaning back in her seat. "I've only ever had sex with two people, John. That's less that anyone else I know, and look at me."

"It's not how many you've had sex with, it's that short amount of time in between that will have people talking."

"Obviously," she said, pointing to her stomach. "Do you know how much trouble you have caused and you aren't even born yet."

"Hey it's not his fault," I defended the unborn child.

"His?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Or her," I shrugged. "Have you decided which one you want to have yet?"

"I think I want a girl," she nodded. "A boy would be nice too. I just don't want a mix."

I laughed and loosely hung my arm over her shoulder. "Your baby will be fine. You're going to make a great mother."

"One can only hope," she patted her stomach and then looked at me.

"I always told you that you would make a great father, O'Callaghan."

"When did you start calling me O'Callaghan?" I asked.

"I don't know," she yawned and layed back even further in her seat. "Night Corny."

I wasn't going to ruin it and tell her that it was the afternoon, but she had called me Corny.

I shook my head and tried to fight the war waging inside of me right now.

I would always love her. She would always love Kennedy.

Somehow, I always ended up getting the short straw.


	4. Sweet Home Alabama

Here we were, the place where this whole mess started. Well, the second place where the mess started, I suppose, technically, the place where it all started was in Peyton's bed. But the place I am talking about now, is the doctor's office. Peyton asked me to come along, because, I guess, this baby could technically be mine, and I guess I should be here. Shit, I am babbling. Anyway. Kennedy isn't thrilled that I am here, but he is trying to act like it isn't bothering him. I know better and so does Peyton. We're all nervous, I mean, it's the first time any of us has had to deal with anything like this. Kennedy didn't know about Olivia until she was three. He missed all of the fun stuff we are going through now. I've never knocked anyone up, until now, if I even did. This was such a confusing mess, and I had no choice but to act as if this kid was mine. I guess now I had to be here for every check-up. It was the responsible thing to do, yes, but honestly, I wouldn't miss it for the world. The thought of having a kid thrilled me. I may be young, and I may have a lifestyle not ideal for raising a kid, but I wanted this. I wanted a family, and sure, it may not be the perfect family, but it would be mine. My own family. I chuckled to myself at the thought and earned two pairs of eyes staring at me. I shook my head and poker faced it, but I was beaming on the inside.

"Brock," the nurse called, and we all stood up. I wonder if the other people in the waiting room were imagining what our lives were like, what, with two guys walking in with one girl. I bet they were wondering which one was the dad and which one was the brother. Kennedy looked more like her brother than I did. That almost gave me a little satisfaction.

The nurse ushered Kennedy and I into the room while she took Peyton for whatever it was she needed to do. This place still freaked me out, the posters still made me glad I was a male. Kennedy was sitting in a chair, tapping his foot quickly. I was leaning against the wall, feeling like a third wheel on this outing. Sure, I was happy that I got a chance to be here. Peyton invited me this morning, but I felt like this was meant to be their family. They got married to start their life together. I was just the ex boyfriend who was here because I had sex with her twice upon a time.

I felt like the silence was awkward for both of us, but neither of us made a move to say anything to break it. Kennedy looked at me and tapped his foot faster. I rubbed the back of my neck and looked down at the ground. Thankfully, only a few minutes passed until our awkwardness barrier entered the room. She took her seat on the examining table, looking a little scared, but she quickly gave me a smile, telling me that she would be fine. I looked over at Kennedy, who was watching our little exchange with a sour face. A few seconds later the ultrasound tech came in; a different one than we had last time. This one was around our age, and she was absolutely gorgeous. I had a hard time hearing what she said over the sound of my heart, which had started to beat faster. What was going on? This only happened when I saw Peyton. I think she introduced herself as "Parker." Is that her last name? First name? I don't know. Maybe I should stop staring at her and actually listen.

I snapped out of my trance and watched her squeeze the gel on Peyton's growing stomach. It had only been a few weeks since we were in this very room, but she was starting to show. I watched the way Parker moved the tiny wand around, slightly pressing into her flesh. I looked at the screen and smiled when we all heard the steady heartbeat.

"Actually," Parker started after Kennedy commented on the heartbeat, "There are two heartbeats."

"What, mine and the babies?" Peyton asked, slightly confused.

"No," Parker said, squinting at the screen. "Ah there, see," she pointed, "There is one baby, and then there," she said, pointing to another blob on the screen, "is the other."

"Twins?" Kennedy asked, squinting at the screen.

"Twins," Parker confirmed nodding her head. I looked at Peyton, who had gone as white as she was the first time we were here.

"No, but they didn't tell us that last time. They didn't tell us that there were two." Peyton said as Parker wiped the gel off of her stomach.

"Sometimes people miss important stuff like that."

"Oh god," Peyton closed her eyes. "Oh god. "

Kennedy tried to comfort her, but it wasn't working. Parker, if that was even her name, I just kept calling her that in my head; was writing something on Peyton's chart. She caught me staring and smiled. I smiled back, not taking my eyes off of her. She closed the chart and told us we were free to leave, then walked out of the room.

"I'll just give you guys a minute," I said after a moment. I casually slipped out and looked around for Parker. There was something about her that was oddly familiar, like the first time I saw Peyton. We knew each other from summer camp. Where did I know Parker from?

I bounded down the hall, trying to find her, and then I did. I found her alright. My body smacked right into hers as I rounded the corner, sending all of the files she was holding airborne, as we awkwardly fell to the floor.

"I thought this type of stuff only happened on TV," she whispered to herself as she tried to sit upright. Her hand went to her head, rubbing the spot that had previously collided with mine. I rubbed my head as well, holding back a stream of curses that I knew wouldn't be appropriate.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking around to all of the papers on the floor.

"My fault. I was the one who wasn't paying attention," she sighed and then looked at her watch. "Shit, now I'm late."

I started scooping up all of the papers on the floor, trying to sort them out.

"These are confidential, O'Callaghan. That means you can't see them," she stood up, grabbing the papers out of my hand. I just stared at her.

"How did you know my last name? " I asked, staring up at her with an inquisitive look. She just smiled at me.

"Think about it," she demanded before she turned on her heal and walked down the hall, only glancing back at me once.

/\\/\\/\\

"You think you know everybody though," Kennedy said, sharply turning a corner.

"Maybe I do know everyone," I retorted, racking my brain to place where I knew her from. I couldn't think of anything.

"Baby, I'm hungry," Peyton informed him, staring out of the window.

"Well," Kennedy said, reaching a hand in the small bag he had in the back seat, while keeping one hand on the wheel. He fished out a sandwich and handed it to her. She looked at him and her eyes lit up.

"Is this…" she started but Kennedy smiled and nodded.

"Peanut butter and pickle."

"God, I love you," she said, ripping open the plastic bag and devouring the sandwich.

"God, I am going to puke," I said, watching her eat the most disgusting sounding sandwich in the world.

"You didn't have to make it," Kennedy laughed, eying the sandwich as well.

"Both of you shut up," she growled. "You aren't the one carrying a child. OH YEAH, I FORGOT, TWO CHILDREN," she shouted, stuffing the last bit of sandwich in her mouth before crossing her arms.

"Well, whoever got you pregnant did a good job," Kennedy joked, but I think it was too soon, because the glare he got from Peyton scared even me, who was usually the target of those glares

"You are so fucking funny," she said, turning her head to look out of the window.

"If all else fails, we can each have a child, huh John?" Kennedy joked again, but then he realized what he had just said and mentally slapped himself.

"Are you kidding me?" Peyton asked. "Did you really just say that?"

"Peyton, he was just kidding," I said, trying to defend him. I know Kennedy thinks without speaking sometimes and I know that he didn't mean it.

"WE ARE NOT SPLITTING THESE KIDS UP," she shouted. I watched Kennedy in the rearview mirror. He closed his eyes and wished he had just stopped while he was ahead.

"Peyton, I really was kidding. You know I wouldn't want that."

"Then why would you even say something like that? Kidding or not it was dumb," she shook her head and waited for him to respond.

"You know, living with you hasn't been a walk in the park lately. I understand that you're pregnant and you have mood swings, but damn it Peyton, I get in trouble for everything. I got in trouble for suggesting Olivia go stay with Nick and Sophia today. I don't understand it."

Peyton was silent as she stared out of the window. This car was suddenly feeling really small, and I wish I didn't have to listen to this. It was silent for a few minutes, but she finally spoke up.

"I know," she nodded. "I know that I haven't been easy to live with. I'll try harder to wrap my head around this whole situation."

I watched Kennedy reach over and grab her hand. That was the end of that argument. As Peyton often said, "Praise Justin!"

"Maybe she went to ASU." I said, bringing the conversation back to Parker, who was still dancing across my mind.

"Will you just give it up, bro?" Kennedy chuckled.

"It is going to bug him until he figures it out," Peyton turned around and smiled at me.

"If you can't place a girl that hot, then something is wrong with you," Kennedy joked. Peyton hit him.

"Maybe she was some random girl you slept with at a show," Peyton said, her tone sounding eerily cheery. "You seemed to do that a lot."

Kennedy shot me an apologetic glance in the rearview mirror. I shook it off. She was right, I did do that a lot, but it was only so that I could get over her. It didn't work, obviously.

My thoughts were broken when Peyton's phone started ringing. She grabbed it and stared at it.

"Are you going to answer it?" Kennedy asked, not taking his eyes off of the road.

"It's my step-sister."

"I thought you never talked to them?" I asked.

"I don't, but if she's calling me it must be important," she grumbled, hitting the "accept" button on the phone.

I listened to the one-sided part of the conversation that I could hear, but I tried to piece in the other side. After 5 minutes of awkwardness, Peyton hung up the phone and set it down on her lap. She didn't say anything.

"Well?" Kennedy prodded, trying to get her to tell us.

"My mom is going into surgery tomorrow. I don't know what for, I didn't ask. Jessica said that the doctor said that she might not make it."

"Wow," I said, forgetting all about Parker.

"They said I may want to come see her before the surgery. The surgery is tomorrow."

"Do you want to go?" I asked.

"I don't know. I mean, we aren't close."

"But she's your mom," I pushed, "You're going to regret this if something happens."

"He's right," Kennedy said, squeezing her hand.

"I know," she nodded. "But I can't just drop everything and go to Alabama."

"What would you be dropping?" I asked.

"Tomorrow is Valentine's day," Kennedy sighed.

"So what? It's a stupid holiday. It isn't even a holiday." I said. "You guys know you love each other. Why do you need a holiday to celebrate it? Are you going to love her tomorrow more than any other day?"

"No," Kennedy sighed. "You're right. You should go. I'll call Nick and tell him we have to reschedule the construction."

"Construction?" I asked.

"Nick and I are supposed to put together cribs and all of that wonderful baby stuff in both of our house tomorrow morning."

"I would offer to do it, but I can't build things." I shrugged.

"No, you shouldn't cancel. You guys are both leaving for tour next week for a few months. There won't be another time. Sophia is due right around the time you guys get back," Peyton said, looking over at Kennedy.

"Well, I don't want you going by yourself. Can't Julia go?"

"She's busy all of the time lately," I said. She had a lot on her plate right now and Garrett could never come out and play, not that he wanted to. He would rather be with Julia, and I didn't mind.

"Are you busy, John?" Peyton asked, turning around in her seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror at Kennedy and saw his jaw tick.

"Uh." I stalled, thinking. I wasn't busy at all, but Kennedy didn't want me to be the one to go with her to Alabama. "I was going to move some of my stuff back from Chico."

"That can wait. We're only going to be gone for a day or two, tops. Please John," she whined, giving me those big brown eyes and pouty lip.

I glanced back at Kennedy once more before I answered. I couldn't say no to her. So I didn't.

/\\/\\/\\/\\

"Snacks?" I asked.

"Check!" Peyton said, nodding.

"Tunes?"

"Check."

"Money?"

"Check!" she said, after digging around in her bag.

"Well, guess that's all we need." I said, trying to think.

"If not, we'll stop and get it.," she said, putting the car in reverse.

"Kennedy's not pleased that I am going," I observed, looking at his shrinking form in the side mirror.

"He needs a break from my mood swings anyways," she shrugged. "I don't know why he wouldn't trust me."

"It's not you he doesn't trust," I said, grabbing the ipod and hitting shuffle.

"Oh god, why are we listening to your ipod?" she asked as soon as some polka music filled the car.

"Because. I have variety. You have the same old shit on yours," I teased.

"My music is not shit!" she defended. "This is fucking polka music. POLKA MUSIC!" she repeated for emphasis.

"Yeah, what of it?" I asked, turning the stereo up louder.

"We have a whole day of driving, Corny," she said. My heart skipped a beat when she used my nickname again. "I can't take this shit!"

/\\/\\/\\

I took the drivers seat somewhere in Texas. Peyton fell asleep as soon as she took the passenger's seat. It was just me, my thoughts, and the open road.

My thoughts shifted from Peyton to Parker. The way she made a ponytail sexy. The way she didn't just tell me who she was, she wanted me to think about it. I did the same thing to Peyton. She wanted to make sure that she stayed on my mind. And she did. The whole drive, I was racking my brain. She was a mystery to me. I had obviously met her before, but why didn't someone that beautiful stay in my memories? I looked at the GPS and saw that we only had a few more miles until we reached Birmingham. This trip had flown by. I stopped thinking about Parker, because she had invaded my thoughts this whole trip. I had driven on autopilot, not remembering the last time I had actively paid attention to the road. It was like life. I had driven on autopilot for the past few years, letting Peyton slip away from me. Maybe that was meant to happen.

/\\/\\/\\

As soon as we entered the hospital, Peyton tensed up. She hated hospitals more than anyone else I knew. I took initiative and went to the desk to ask which room Peyton's mom was in. As soon as I knew, I grabbed Peyton's hand and drug her to the elevator. I knew she hated them, but I am sure her pregnant ass wouldn't want to walk up the stairs. It was okay though, she squeezed my hand the whole time.

As soon as the elevator opened, it revealed her sister. I had never met anyone from this side of her family, but I had seen pictures. She was leaning against the wall, looking worn out and beat. I had never been through this, a sick parent in the hospital, but this was the second time Peyton has had to go through it. I imagine her sister has been through it before. Maybe her mom was in the hospital a lot. Peyton never knew because this whole side of her family were like strangers to her. They never kept in touch.

"Jessica," Peyton called out. Jessica turned to look, and forced a smile. She started to walk towards us, and we started towards her, meeting somewhere in the middle.

"Peyton!" Jessica tried to cheerfully greet us, but it came out as tired and seemed like the best she could give us right now. "God, you're pregnant!"

Peyton just nodded and painted a smile on. She didn't like talking about the pregnancy. She had just told our friends about it when she started to really show. Carrying twins made her show earlier than she normally would have. They were all supportive, though they didn't know why I went with Peyton to her check ups. We left the part where I may be the father out. No need to drag other people in this mess until we definitely knew.

"What's going on with mom?" Peyton asked, shifting the attention off of her.

"She's having a kidney transplant. They found a tumor on hers a few years back, and she's had so many surgeries since then."

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" Peyton asked, sounding a little hurt. It surprised me how much she cared. I thought she didn't like her mom.

"Mom told us not to tell you. She said that," Jessica started, but the bit her lip as if she were trying to keep the words from escaping.

"She said that?" Peyton urged her on. Jessica let out a sigh.

"She said that you wouldn't want to be bothered with any of this. You made it a point to let us know that you didn't like us, Peyton. It was like you thought you were so much better than us, and you deserved more than Alabama had to offer. Mom just decided that if you wanted to be in our lives, you would be. The phone works both ways, you know?"

The words stung Peyton, I could tell. She looked as if she were about to cry. I wouldn't be surprised if she did. She did that a lot lately.

"It's not that I thought I was better," Peyton started, fidgeting with her hands. For some reason, Jessica made her nervous. "I just felt like I didn't belong. When my mom married your dad, I was the outcast, you know? We moved into your house, and lived by your rules. It was hard for me. I never thought I was better than you. All I knew was my family. When mom moved back to Alabama after my parents divorce, it was hard for me to adjust. Tempe was always home. I just don't feel like a part of your family. I never made friends like you did. You were the prom queen Jessica, I was lost in your shadow, and I always would be. I changed when I moved to Arizona. Arizona is a part of me. All of my friends are there, my husband is there," she paused to take a breath. "I think back to the summer's I spent here, and I just remember them being miserable. It was nothing against you, or mom, or even your dad. I just love Arizona."

"Well, I feel like I understand a little more about you." Jessica smiled. "You're married?" Peyton smiled and nodded.

"Got married last month."

"Are you..?" she started to ask, looking at me, but I just shook my head no.

"Oh god, you got knocked up. You've been pregnant for longer than a month!" Jessica eyed Peyton's stomach.

"Technically speaking, yes. I did. But I didn't know I was pregnant when I got married, if that is any consolation."

"Touché," Jessica nodded. "Mom's about to go into surgery. Want to see her before she goes?"

Peyton bit her lip, taking in the reality of it all. She hadn't seen her mother in years. She was going to in a matter of seconds. She looked at me, and I smiled at her, willing her to go ahead.

"Will you come with me?" she whispered, looking like she was about to hurl. She was nervous.

"Aw, come on. You're a rock star. You don't need me," I winked at her. She chuckled and nodded.

"You're right. If I can sing in front of people, I can do this." She looked at Jessica and nodded. I watched her follow her step- sister, only looking back at me once.

/\\/\\/\\

She was in her mom's room for two hours. Two long, boring hours. I almost wished I went with her. I stopped counting how many times I took a walk to the snack machine. There was nothing in there that I wanted, but it was like the refrigerator, I kept checking to see if something had magically appeared. In case you were wondering, nothing did. I dug out my phone for the thousandth time and scrolled through my contacts, looking for someone to text. Kennedy? No. Jared? With Tess. Nick? Eh. Halvo? Bingo.

I texted him a quick, "sup bro?" before setting my phone down on the seat next to me. It took him a few minutes to reply, but he finally did. The conversation went a little something like this.

Halvo - "Yo."

Me – "Send me some noodz. I'm bored."

Halvo – "Do you want my noodz or..?"

Me- "Whatever you feel like."

Halvo – "I don't feel like sending any. How's Alabama?"

Me – "How do you know I'm in Alabama?"

Halvo – "You tweeted 'Sweet Home Alabama.' I know you weren't just tweeting song lyrics from a lame song. Wait, it's you. You were."

Me- "Peyton's mom is in the hospital."

Halvo - "Shit bro. Tell her I'm sorry."

Me "Will do."

Halvo – "You guys are going to miss a sick party tonight."

I stopped texting him, because Peyton finally walked out. It looked as if she had cried sometime in the past two hours. Her eyes were all puffy and red and her mascara left a trail down her cheeks.

"That was hard," she sighed, placing her purse around her shoulder.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked, throwing my arm around her, leading her to the elevator. Her mom was going into surgery, and there was nothing more we could do now. The surgery would take a few hours. We would know something whenever it was over.

"Not right now. I'm tired."

"Are we going to a hotel?" I asked, not oblivious to how hard she was squeezing my hand. She really hated elevators.

"Nope," she shook her hand, making the keys jingle. "Ted gave me his house keys."

"Ted's your step-father?" I asked. She nodded.

"Do you remember how to get there?" I asked.

"That's why they invented the GPS, Corny," she smiled and waved a piece of paper with an address on it in my face.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the house. It was an amazing brick house with ivy growing across the walls. It was picture perfect, and Peyton smiled at my reaction.

"I know, right? They don't build them like this in Tempe."

"God, why not?" I asked, stepping out of the car and grabbing my bag from the backseat. I grabbed hers too. She was pregnant, if you forgot.

"No need to. A lot of houses in Alabama are brick to resist the weather and tornados. The only thing that happens in Tempe is, well nothing. It's just really hot."

"Makes sense," I nodded, following her down the brick pathway.

"There's only three bedrooms, so you're going to have to share with me."

"Can't I just sleep on the couch?" I asked.

"You can, if you want to stay up all night with Ted watching infomercials. He likes them. He's odd."

"No, I'm good," I sighed, following her to the bedroom. She gasped as soon as she opened the door.

"They didn't change a thing," she shook her head. "Kill me."

"What's so bad?" I asked her, trying to peek. She never fully opened the door for me to see. I nudged it open with my toe and figured out why. NSYNC and Backstreet Boys posters lined the pastel pink walls.

"You hate pink!"

"Now you know why!" she retorted, throwing her purse down on the ancient computer desk that held up a computer one could only describe as being a "dinosaur."

"Dude, I am jealous. I always wanted a beanbag!" I exclaimed, setting down the bags and throwing myself onto the small chair.

"NO DON'T!" she screamed when I was halfway through the air. As soon as I came into contact with the beanbag chair, what seemed like a thousand 'beans' rolled across the floor." Peyton closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Thumper chewed that thing up ten years ago. My family apparently never throws anything away."

"My bad," I winced, looking at the mess all over the floor.

"It's okay," she shrugged, taking a look around at everything she left here. "Maybe we should just take a nap for a few hours, until Jessica calls me." She fell down on the bed and was asleep within minutes. I scooped as many of the 'beans' off of the floor and into the wastebasket next to her desk. Then I allowed myself to take a much-needed nap next to Peyton on the queen sized bed that was as hard as a rock.

/\\/\\/\\

When Peyton's phone started ringing, I didn't wake up instantly. She had to shake me awake. I blinked my eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, trying to reorient myself.

"Mom's in recovery," she smiled at me, and I returned it. "She can't have any visitors right now, though." She sat up, combing her hair with her fingers mindlessly. "So, what do you want to do?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Cow tipping."

"Seriously?"

"We're in Alabama. What else is there to do?"

"Not much," she shrugged. "But I need to call Kennedy. What time is it at home?"

I looked at the clock on the wall. It seemed to have run out of batteries. I just shrugged and buried my face in the pillow. It smelled like her.

"I'll be right back," she said, leaving the room. I observed the room closer now that she was gone. She didn't have any pictures of her with friends, or any pictures at all. Besides the posters on the wall, her room was eerily bare. Peyton cherished her friends, and to think that at one point in her life she didn't have any, it was hard to believe. Even back in camp, she had loads of friends.

She came back in the room and threw her phone down on the bed.

"Let's go O'Callaghan," she growled, storming through door. I glanced at her phone and then followed her, wondering what Kennedy did, or rather, what her hormones did.

"Where are we going?" I asked, taking the passengers seat. She was backing out of the driveway before I was even fully in the car.

"I don't know. I just need to drive to think."

"What happened?"

"Gabi answered Kennedy's phone," she spat out, running her third consecutive stop sign.

"Can you please not kill us!" I screamed as soon as she ran a red light. I closed my eyes, hearing nothing but the screeching of other car's brakes.

"Fucking Gabi. The root of all evil. Answered my husbands phone. Who the fuck does she think is? Why is she with him?"

"I don't know, but I am sure there is a rational explanation," I shouted the last part, closing my eyes again as she almost took out a yield sign.

"There is no explanation!" she shook her head, sharply turning a corner. We were out of the subdivision, heading towards town.

"Pull over the car," I demanded calmly.

"No."

"Peyton, pull over the car," I demanded again.

"Fuck you."

"PULL OVER THE FUCKING CAR!"

She slammed her foot on the brake, making the car behind us swerve and barely miss the car. I jumped out of the car so fast, stomping around the front of it until I reached her door. I threw it open and waited for her to get out.

"You are fucking crazy," I shook my head. "You don't know why Gabi is there. It could be nothing, and you fucking blow things way out of proportion LIKE YOU ALWAYS FUCKING DO."

"IT'S FUCKING VALENTINE'S DAY, JOHN. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK? SHE WANTED TO SEE OLIVIA? SHE HASN'T WANTED TO FUCKING DO THAT IN MONTHS!"

"And again, Peyton, you always think things are worse than they actually are and it's fucking annoying." I was furious at this point. I stopped to think about all of the shit Peyton had caused because she always took things one step in the wrong direction.

"Stop acting like you fucking know me John, because you don't."

"I know you better than you know yourself, princess," I seethed, waiting for her to argue, because I knew she was going to.

"Oh whatever you say, John," she crossed her arms and leaned against the car door.

"Call Kennedy again." I challenged her. "Fucking ask him, and then you will see that I am right."

"Fine," she grunted, reaching for her phone, but it wasn't in her back pocket. "Give me yours. I left mine at the house."

I handed her my phone and tapped my fingers impatiently as she waited for him to pick up. He didn't. She thrust my phone back into my hands and started pacing back and forth.

"He cheated on Gabi before," she said more to herself than me.

"He wouldn't cheat on you, Peyton," I groaned.

"Shut up, John."

"No, you shut up. Just stop it. Stop worrying about every little thing."

"He is doing this because he is having a hard time trusting me."

"Why would he?" I asked, curious.

"Ever since I told him that this baby, these babies, aren't his, he has been distant. He doesn't trust me."

I didn't say anything, because I knew she was right. I had seen first hand how distant he was lately. Not only with her, but with everyone I stepped in front of her to stop her constant pacing, making her look at me, really look at me.

"Peyton," I started, but she was Peyton, and she just kept going.

"He said that if these babies ended up being yours, we would be fine. That is a lie. How are things going to be fine if he can't even trust me?" Tears started to pool in her eyes, and it hurt me. It broke my heart to see her cry. I thought about it for a moment.

"I don't know. I can't tell the future, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you. I know everything is scary right now," I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "but in the end, everything will work out the way it was meant to." I wiped the tears away with my sleeve, and pulled her in for a hug. After a minute or two she pulled away and looked at me and then down at my phone, which was vibrating.

"Text from Halvo," she sighed, handing me the phone.

"He was having a party tonight, I am sure I will get tons of pict-" I stopped talking and stared at the screen. I fumbled to quickly close out of it, but Peyton was quick to grab it away from me, smiling as she did so. Until she looked at the screen. I heard the crack of my phone breaking against the pavement as I just stared at her.

Halvo's caption under the picture, "What should I do?"

Halvo's had sent me a picture that may have just ruined Peyton's marriage. Gabi was with Kennedy alright. They were looking too cozy on the lawn chair that sat in front of Pat and Jared's house. They were both obviously drunk, and right now, I bet Peyton wished she could drink. Instead, she did the next best thing that would make her feel a little better. She grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me in for a kiss. I shook my head and pushed her away slowly.

"You can't do this," I sighed, trying to figure out which side of the war that waging in my head I was on.

"I just did," she said, capturing my lips with hers again. I pulled back again.

"You don't even know what was going on," I tried again. "It's probably nothing. They could just be talking."

"John," she said, tears forming in her eyes again. "It doesn't matter what is happening. He is with his ex fiancé, cuddled in a lawn chair at a party thousands of miles away. And I am here, with you right now, believing that everything happens for a reason."

She had me there. Using my own words against me. Everything happened for a reason.

If everything happened for a reason, why did I feel like this was wrong? Because it was, but I pushed that thought to the back of my mind and I lost myself in Peyton's kiss.

I wasn't going to lie, I missed it. There was something about being in a different state, standing on the side of the road, feeling the rush of cars go by, kissing the girl you had always loved that makes it one of the best moments in your life.

Even if I knew it was wrong and I would regret it in the long run, that didn't make me stop.


	5. Either Way I'll Break Your Heart Someday

Let's take a minute to count how many times I have screwed up with Peyton. I withheld information about her relationship with Halvo intentionally, which in turn broke them up. I tried to compete with Kennedy for her affections and wound up getting a black eye on stage in front of the whole crowd. I got drunk and stole her virginity, something that I regret to this day. She wasn't ready, but we were so far gone neither of us even remembered. I tried to meddle once again in her relationship with Kennedy after she left him at the altar and ultimately broke them up. I had sex with her when she was vulnerable, and possibly got her pregnant.

I kept causing trouble and scheming, trying to find ways to make her mine, and the whole time, I didn't need to. I guess somewhere along this winding road that was my life, I changed.

I watched her sleep, something that I had done countless times, but this time it was different. This time I wasn't meddling or trying to get her to fall for me, forcing my way in.

She kissed me, not the other way around. She kissed me because Kennedy screwed up, and this time, I had nothing to do with it. It made me think that if I had just changed a long time ago, she might have been with me. Who knows, I am not having a "what if" moment right now.

Was this wrong? Was us kissing on the side of the road last night wrong? Nothing about it felt wrong, but that didn't mean it was right. I missed her. I missed how her hair smelt, how her eyes always seemed to flutter shut right before our lips met, but most of all I missed the way her lips tasted. I missed the way she bit my bottom lip unintentionally. I missed her, I missed this, I missed us. I missed those few mornings on the bus where I woke up to her in my bunk, her make-up smeared from the day before, her hair a complete mess. She was perfect.

The only way I could describe what we had was a beautiful mess.

She was my beautiful mess.

I gently placed my hand on her cheek and gently kissed her lips. Nothing. She slept like a dead person.

"Peyton," I sat up a tiny bit, leaning over to whisper into her ear. There it was, that overpowering smell of her shampoo clouding my judgment. I gently bit her earlobe, knowing exactly what that did to her. I felt her smile and gently bury her fingers in my hair, grabbing a handful and tugging my head back, bringing her lips to mine. It felt so easy, like this happened every single morning. If only.

"Morning," I greeted against her lips. She smiled in return and kissed me again.

"Good morning," she answered, running her fingers through my hair lightly. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept great," I said, closing my eyes and laying my head on her lap, basking in the feeling of her playing with my hair. Guys like it too, in case you were wondering. "And you?"

"Amazing."

"I know. You snored all night," I teased.

"It happens." She was quiet for a few minutes, just concentrating on the act of playing with my hair, but I knew she was thinking. Thinking the same thing I was.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" I asked, looking up at her.

"You know what's going on in it," she sighed and stopped running her fingers through my hair, lifting her hand up to brush the hair out of her face. The sunlight streaming through her blinds hit her wedding ring and made it shine, grabbing both of our attention. She stared at it and I watched as her face turned sour. She forcefully pulled it off of her finger and set it on the nightstand. I didn't know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.

"I thought this would hurt more," she confessed, finally looking down at me.

"What?"

"This," she said, motioning to her ring. "I knew it was only a matter of time before the life I thought was so perfect got ruined. And I knew it would be her," she sighed, shaking her head. "What I don't understand is how he could forgive her after everything she did. I mean the woman practically kidnapped their kid and went into hiding. Who does that? Who forgives someone who does that? Who cheats on their pregnant wife while she is off visiting her mom in Alabama," she started fighting the tears at this point.

"It was a picture," I sat up and wiped the tears with the pads of my thumbs. "It was a picture at a party and it could have meant nothing."

"Is it bad that I hope it did?" she asked, burying her face in her hands.

"What?" I asked, trying to understand what she meant. She tore her hands away from her face and took a minute to get the tears under control.

"Kennedy and I have been having problems. I don't know what is going on. Every time I try to say something, he gives me this glare. This god awful glare that makes me wish I hadn't even opened my mouth. He won't even touch me. I don't understand what happened. When we got married, I was so sure that that was it. He was 'The One.' Now, if someone were to observe us, they wouldn't guess that we were married. We're like strangers walking around our house. Poor Olivia doesn't understand what's going on either. She walked in on us fighting one night. God John, if you could have seen the look on her face. She was used to Gabi and Kennedy fighting, but not this. My whole life, the one I wanted for so long, it's crumbling, and all I can do is sit back and let it fall apart."

"No." I practically shouted, shaking my head. "No. Do you hear yourself? You've already given up on something you've been fighting for for such a long time. You know what's wrong with Kennedy as well as I do."

She ran her fingers through her hair, knotting her fingers around the strands and resting her head on her hand. She finally nodded.

"This has nothing to do with you. It's me. He's mad that we had sex. He's scared that these kids won't be his. He's angry because I am the last person he would have wanted in this position. He's hurt," I sighed, rubbing my thumb lightly over her hip. "He's hurt, and I am the one who did it."

"We weren't together when I slept with you. I did nothing wrong, and neither did you."

"Bro code. You don't sleep with your best friends girl."

She smirked and then looked me directly in the eyes. "I was your girl first, John."

"I always forget that part," I chuckled. "I did the wrong thing to the right girl."

"So I've heard," she leaned in to give me a kiss.

"Call him today. For both of us., because as much as I like kissing you, I feel like this may be wrong."

"Does it feel wrong to you?" she asked, lightly tracing the tattoos on my chest with her ghost like touch. I shivered at the contact.

"No," I confessed, closing my eyes. "It feels right."

"It feels right," she repeated my words, leaning down to catch my lips in a quick kiss before shifting her legs, letting my head fall to the mattress.

"I'm going to go talk to Jessica for a minute. You should shower, you stink," she teased, raising her nose in fake disgust.

"I stink? I was almost repulsed by your stench; I mean I had to make myself kiss you. I almost gagged," I smiled as she glared at me.

"I hate you, Corny," she said with no emotion in her voice. I just smiled at her, earning a wink as she skipped out of the door. I threw the covers off of my body, fighting the urge to just crawl back under them and sleep a little more, but I knew Peyton would be back in a matter of minutes. It was funny how fast we went from serious to nonchalant in a matter of seconds.

I shifted through my duffle bag, pulling out the first pair of jeans and shirt my fingers fumbled upon. Carrying them into the bathroom connected to Peyton's room, I threw them down on the ground, starting the water immediately after. What I hadn't noticed as I started stripping down was that this was a joint bathroom, so when I turned around to make sure I had a towel, Jessica was just sitting on the edge of her bed, watching me. Creepy? Yeah, I thought so too.

I just raised my eyebrow, and kicked the door shut with my foot. I hadn't really talked to Jessica that much, so I didn't really have an opinion of her. I looked in the mirror, and to be perfectly honest, I couldn't stop smiling. "You finally got her," was all I was thinking in my head.

/\\/\\/\\

"So, I was going to show you around Birmingham," Peyton said, practically galloping into the room, towel drying her wet hair, "but there has been a change of plans."

"Really?" I asked. "What's going down now?"

"Well, I haven't spent time alone with my mom, so that's what I am doing. You," she threw her towel at me like a bitch, "are going to see Birmingham. With Jessica."

"Am I? What if I want to meet your mom?"

"You will meet her, tomorrow maybe."

"We leave tomorrow," I sighed. Why didn't she want me to meet her mom?

"I'm not leaving tomorrow," she shrugged and started applying her make-up.

"This would have been good information to know a little sooner," I grumbled, tossing her towel on the floor.

"Well, I just decided it. You can leave if you want. Take Kennedy his car back, tell him to fuck himself while you're at it."

"I'm not going to leave you here."

"You really have no choice. Tour starts soon."

"Not for another few days. I can skip practice. I am not leaving you here."

"I was hoping you would say that," her reflection in the mirror smiling at me, which of course made everything okay.

/\\/\\/\\

The rap music blaring from the speakers of Jessica's Mazda Miata made me actually want to suffer through Peyton's ipod. She didn't have this shit on there. Rap was okay to an extent, but whatever it was that she was listening to, made me want to die.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"What?" she yelled and looked at me.

"Where are we going?" I tried again, a little louder. She pointed to her ear and shrugged. Was she for real? I reached for the volume knob and turned it to the left, earning a glare of sheer hate.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Mall," she said, reaching to adjust the volume again.

"I thought you were going to show me around?"

"What do you think I am doing?" she asked, cranking the music up to an unbearable decibel.

"Going to a mall is not showing me Birmingham," I said. She looked at me and nodded.

"I would rather go to the hospital," I grumbled. Again, she nodded. She couldn't hear me.

"Do you like wearing underwear on your head ?" I asked, a small smirk taking place on my face.

Again she nodded. I lost it.

/\\/\\/\\

Couldn't tell you what store we were in, all of the dressing rooms looked the same, and that's all I saw. Jessica insisted I helped her pick out an outfit. Yeah, because this is how I wanted to spend my day.

I didn't think people actually wore the outfits she was trying on. Where Peyton dressed for comfort and practicality, Jessica dressed for sheer look and sex appeal. The current outfit she was modeling included short shorts and a crop top. Yes, apparently we were back in the 90's and Jessica was auditioning to be an extra in a Brittany Spears video.

"What do you think, Johnny?" she asked, doing a twirl and trying to gauge my reaction.

"Where would you wear this?" I asked, not bothering to keep the distaste out of my voice.

"Where wouldn't I wear this?" she defended, lightly rolling her eyes. I shrugged and started playing scrabble on my phone with Jared. I missed the guys, and I missed Arizona. I missed Peyton, even though I had only left her a few hours ago. This was the last place on earth I wanted to be, so when Jessica retreated back into the dressing room, I snuck out.

I aimlessly wandered the mall, not really paying attention. Alabama was like a whole different world. They talked different, dressed different, and had really shitty malls.

I ducked into Hot Topic, trying to pass the time. One of the employees must have recognized me, because she followed me around the whole time, asking me if I needed anything. When I checked out, she asked me to sign her name badge. Of course I did. She even gave me her employee discount. I bought two shirts. One for Peyton, and the other for-

"You left me!" she screeched as soon as she found me. I sighed and pulled the shirt out of the bag and tossed it to her.

"Got you something," I informed her. She unfolded the shirt and held it up to look at it.

"The Maine?" she questioned. "What is that?"

"Nothing. I just figured you could wear it one day. Maybe when you realize that some guys will like you for more than what you wear. Dressing like a slut doesn't make guys fall in love with you."

"Who said anything about love?" she asked, finally looking up at me.

"I just figured most girls want love," I shrugged.

"Not all of them. I don't dress like a slut," she sighed and then looked at the shirt again, "but thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Alright, let's go home."

"Can you just drop me off at the hospital?"

"Peyton knew you would ask me that. She told me to tell you that she would see you tonight, and no sooner. She and mom need to sort out their shit. You're stuck with me!" she grinned, and looped her arm through mine.

Joy.

/\\/\\/\

This time, I managed to have control of the music. Don't ask me how, I just talked to her about stupid stuff, unhooked her ipod and hooked mine up before she noticed.

As soon as Ryan Adams filled the car, she groaned.

"I don't suppose you have anything I would like on there?"

"I don't know."

"The Maine? Is that a band? Got any of them?" she asked, flicking her cigarette out of the window.

"You do know that those can kill you, right?" I asked, thumbing through my ipod.

"No dad, I hadn't heard."

"And yes, I have The Maine. You may not like them."

"Let's hope I do. Maybe one day I will wear that hideous shirt that is at least two sizes too big."

I sighed and hit play, the all too familiar song filling the car.

"She's eighteen and a beauty queen," I sang along with my own voice. It was eerie, doing that.

"You know," she started lighting up another cigarette. I was going to smell like an ashtray when we got back to her house. "You have a decent singing voice."

"You think?" I asked, chuckling.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Ever thought about doing it for a living? I mean, who knows what would happen if you started your own band."

"I actually have a band," I informed her, tapping my toe to the beat.

"Really? Are you as good as 'The Maine'?" she asked, tapping her finger along.

"Oh I don't know. Do you like them?" I asked.

"I actually do. Catchy. So how do you know Peyton's husband?"

"He's in my band."

"Oh really? She always liked musicians. Not me. Too emotional."

"So true," I laughed, watching Birmingham pass me by outside of the window.

"What kind of music do you guys play?"

"Oh, similar to this," I pointed to the stereo.

"Do you guys have an awesome name for your band?"

"I suppose."

"What is it?"

"The Maine," I said, looking over at her.

"No shit! You are in a legit band! They sell your fucking shirts at Hot Topic!"

"That they do," I nodded and smiled.

"Shit!" she said, finally pulling into the driveway of her house. "I'm going to go get ready. There's a party tonight. You don't have to go, but it should be fun."

"I'll think about it," I nodded, grateful for the invite, not that I was going to go.

"Good," she smiled at me and opened the front door, running up the stairs and disappearing into the bathroom, where she would stay for who knew how long.

/\\/\\/\\

An hour of Jeopardy with Peyton's step father later, I was dying to do something. I walked into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and staring inside of it. I closed it a few seconds later and walked around the kitchen, returning to the refrigerator and opening it again. Nothing new had appeared. I walked through the living room and up the stairs, debating on what to do. Just as I was rounding the corner, Jessica stepped out of the bathroom, her hair curled flawlessly, her clothes, amazingly, not slutty. I leaned against the door jamb and crossed my arms.

"She's going to kill you," I said, scaring her as I spoke up.

"I'm just borrowing them," she shrugged, referring to Peyton's favorite shirt and a pair of black shorts. The stiletto heals, however, were not Peyton's. That would just be a disaster if Peyton ever took one step in those. That one step would end her life as well as anyone around her. "We used to share clothes all of the time."

"Somehow, I have a problem believing that," I chuckled, raising my eyebrow at her.

"Okay, so it was more like me borrowing her clothes," she shrugged, spraying perfume in the air and walking through the mist.

"So Johnny, you coming?" she asked, grabbing her bag and stuffing some cash in her front pocket.

I glanced down the stairs and saw what my options were if I stayed here. Another few hours watching game shows was not appealing.

"Yeah," I sighed, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "I'm in."

I was John O'Callaghan. Party was practically my middle name.

/\\/\\/\\

The five story walk-up wasn't bad for me at first, until I ended up giving Jessica a piggy back ride.

"My heals keep getting caught in the grates!" she whined as soon as we started walking up the stairs. I was tired of her whining, so I basically threw her on my back. As soon as we got to the top, I decided I needed a drink. I didn't intend on drinking, but hell, I think I deserved it. Jessica opened the door to apartment 5A without even knocking. I followed her in, shutting the door behind me. As soon as I turned back around, she was gone. I shook my head and went to the kitchen. That's where the booze would be.

I made small talk with some of the people there. This party wasn't a rager, but it was picking up traffic fast. After an hour or two of mingling, I decided it was time to find Jessica. I set my beer down and started searching the apartment. When I ran out of places to search in the main part of the apartment, I decided it was time to check rooms. I didn't know Jessica that well, but I heard stories from Peyton on the drive down. I would bet everything I owned on the fact that she was in one of these rooms.

I opened the first door and instantly shut it. She wasn't in that one, but some redhead was getting lucky. I checked the next one, but it looked like there was no one in that one. I took a deep breath, knowing that this was where she would be. My thoughts racing a thousand images a second as to what could be on the other side of this room. It was locked.

I knocked on the door and no response came through. I started pounding, but heard no movement from the other side. I took a few steps back and kicked the door open. I would congratulate myself on that badass move later, but right now I needed to…

"Shit," I muttered, running into the room. It was Jessica alright, her blonde hair fanned out on the bed, a tourniquet around her arm, a needle lying on the bed next to her hand. She was out cold. I quickly snapped the tourniquet off of her slightly discolored arm, flinging it across the room.

"Jessica," I tried getting her attention, but she was unconscious. I tried again, but yelped in surprise when I felt two arms wrap around me, pulling me away from her.

"Who do you think you are?" he asked me, throwing me across the room. "Get away from her. She's mine tonight."

I glared at the guy. He was around my height, but at least twice my size, and it was all muscle. I should be scared, but right now, I didn't have time.

"The fuck she is," I muttered, walking back to the bed, trying to shake her awake.

"Bro, what is your problem?" he asked. "I'm just trying to have a good time, and you are ruining it."

"Good," I spat out, shoving him against the dresser. I don't know where this courage or strength came from, but hell, I felt the adrenaline pumping. "I will kick your ass if you don't get out."

He just looked at me and laughed.

"Laugh all you want, but I already called my boys, and they're coming. I would get out if I were you," I growled, tightening my grip on him. He looked over my shoulder at Jessica and then shook his head.

"She isn't even worth this," he pushed me away, walking towards the door. It took everything I had not to punch him, but I knew I couldn't. He would have beat me to a pulp, especially since I really didn't have any "boys" coming. I let it go, turning my attention back to Jessica. I kneeled next to her, trying to wake her up, but nothing seemed to be working. I had never actually been in this situation. My friends smoked pot, they didn't do hard drugs. I had no experience with this.

I paced around the room trying to think clearly. Finally I gave up, and picked her up, carrying her bridal style through the party, struggling to open the door and carry her down the same 5 flights of stairs I carried her up. As soon as I got to the car, I realized I hadn't grabbed her bag. The car was locked, and there was no way I was going to leave her outside, so guess what I did.

I lugged her back up those 5 flights of stairs, grabbed her bag, and then back down the stairs. I practically dropped her in the passengers seat, my arms giving out just as I got back down to the car. I leaned in and buckled her seatbelt, still a little frazzled that this was all really happening.

As I put the tiny car into gear, I realized I was in a foreign city and had no idea of how to get back to the house. I drove through downtown Birmingham, trying to remember any landmarks we passed on the way here, but I had no idea. I do remember driving down and interstate. Sixty something. 69? Interstate 69? No John, get your mind out of the gutter. I looked for signs that said anything about an interstate, finally whispering a "hallelujah" when I found it.

Interstate 65.

North or South?

Heads or tales.

I could call Peyton, but she was more than likely asleep.

After an hour of driving around, somehow, by the grace of god himself, I found the neighborhood.

Finally, after all of that driving, I lifted Jessica out of the car, passed Peyton's step-dad, who glanced at us and just shook head, carried her up the last flight of stairs of the night, and into her bedroom. I didn't bother flipping the light on, I just laid her down on the bed. I turned to leave, but she started to stir.

"Jessica," I sighed in relief as she opened her eyes. She looked down at her clothes and then at me. I grabbed the t-shirt I bought her that morning and some pajama pants out of her drawer. She lifted her arms, understanding that she needed to get out of her clothes, the ones that reeked of alcohol and drugs. I pulled Peyton's favorite shirt off of her sister and slipped the t-shirt on over head, letting the loose material fall over her shaking body. She kicked the shorts off and I helped her get her pajama pants on. I picked up her shorts and checked the front pocket to see if the money was still there. It was gone. It was her drug money. I tied her hair up in a ponytail to get it out of her face, and leaned her back against the pillow, covering her body with the blanket.

"I'm sorry, John," she barely whispered. I stroked her hair, letting her know that she would be okay.

I closed her door quietly after I exited, tiptoeing into Peyton's room so that I wouldn't wake her, but of course, she was awake, a book in her hand, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

"Hey," she smiled as soon as I closed the door.

"Hey," I returned the greeting, a little less cheerfully than she did. "How was the day with your mom?"

"Amazing," she replied, taking her glasses off and setting them on her nightstand. "How was the day with Hurricane Jessica?"

"Shit," I sighed, wiping my eyes. "Can we talk about it in the morning?" I asked, rubbing my eyes, wanting to put this night behind me.

"Of course," she nodded, rubbing my back as soon as I sat down on the mattress.

"Goodnight," I smiled at her, reassuring her that everything was okay.

"John," she started, but never finished.

"Hm?" I asked, urging her to go on.

"Nothing," she sighed, biting her lip.

"I love you too," I smiled and patted her thigh lightly.

"How did you know what I was going to say?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Because, that's love is all about, isn't it?"

She didn't answer. She just pulled me in for a kiss and then turned the light off. I wasn't looking forward to the conversation about her sister tomorrow.

/\\/\\/\\

I don't know how it happened, really. I was still sleeping when all of the drama went down.

Everything seemed so perfect when I went to bed last night, between Peyton and I, I mean.

All I remember is Peyton getting up this morning, trying to be quiet to let me sleep in, and failing miserably. I dozed off, back to sleep for a little while, but it didn't last long. It didn't last long because Peyton practically kicked the door down, throwing all of my clothes at me, screaming at me to leave.

It took me a few minutes to get over the shock and piece together the mess of words she was spitting out.

Eventually I understood, but I couldn't believe it.

"How could you, John?" she asked, throwing my shoe at me. "After everything we've been through," she screamed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "You slept with my sister? HOW COULD YOU?" she asked again, throwing my other shoe at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to grab her flailing arms to calm her down, but she just hit me and pushed me away.

"Don't you DARE act like you don't know. Jessica is a mess."

"Yeah, she was a mess last night when she was fucked up. Do you know that your sister has a drug problem?"

"Don't be stupid, John, she does not," she argued with me.

"Are you kidding me? What makes you think I would ruin this?"

"You're John O-fucking-Callaghan. That's reason enough. Get out of here. Take Kennedy his car, and don't bother calling me," she said, wiping the last tear out of her eye, her face so emotionless it scared me.

"Peyton," I tried, even though I knew nothing would change this. Her mind was made up. In her mind, I slept with her sister.

"Get out," she repeated, leaving me standing there alone, my clothes decorating the room.


	6. Remember To Feel Real

The whole drive home I blasted Death Cab for Cutie and Ryan Adams, gripping my steering wheel as tight as I could, my white knuckles only a small reminder of the morning I had. I didn't try to explain myself to Peyton; it would have done no good. She was more stubborn than anyone else I had ever met in my whole life, and maybe that's part of what attracted me to her. Maybe it was her constant mood swings or her bitchy attitude. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't take my bullshit, or the fact that no matter how often she said that we weren't meant to be together, I knew she was lying.

Why did I even want to be with her? She turns my world upside down and not always in a good way. Her favorite Ryan Adams song started to play and I threw my ipod. I drove the rest of the way in silence, locked in a tiny Honda Civic alone with my thoughts.

/\\/\\

I didn't stop to sleep. The drive was a little over 24 hours, but I couldn't pull myself away from the road. Sleeping alone in that hotel room would make me feel more alone than I already did, more like a failure than I already was.

I had heard the stories about Jessica. I just thought maybe they were just that, stories. I thought maybe I could see the good in her, and in return, she may change.

That worked out so well, John.

I parked Kennedy's car in the driveway, thankful that both of their cars were occupying the majority of it. I wasn't ready to face him. That would come later. Right now, I needed to make sense of everything happening, needed to sort my head out. The only person, well people, who could help me right now were right inside of the house at the end of this driveway.

I climbed out of Kennedy's Civic and sauntered down the sidewalk leading to the entrance. I rapped three knocks on the door, but there was no answer. I looked back at the driveway, making sure my eyes hadn't deceived me. They hadn't, there were two cars there, three now, including Kennedy's. I began knocking again, but still, nothing. I tried the doorknob to see if it was unlocked, and as soon as it opened a tiny bit, I understood why nobody answered. The sound of Ryan Adams was blasting, and I mean blasting, through the whole house. I peeked around the corner of the living room and saw a sight that made my heart happy.

Olivia was holding a guitar that was twice the size of her, dancing next to Garrett, who was showing her moves. They both held their guitars high and hopped backwards, one foot extended in the air. Olivia's melodic giggles could be heard over the song "Magick," and it was just that. Magic. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe, watching them a while longer until I felt an arm snake around my waist in a form of greeting. I jumped and looked down to see Julia smiling up at me.

"Come here," she yelled, tugging my shirt so that I followed her. I took one last glance at Olivia and then followed Julia into the kitchen.

"Could have called," she said, pouring me a cup of coffee. "And you could have slept. You literally look like Hell, buddy."

"You look amazing, as always," I rolled my eyes at her bluntness and grasped the cup out of her hands. It was hot and I dropped it down onto the table. It spilled over the edge.

"Shit, sorry," I mumbled, trying to wipe it up with the sleeve of my flannel shirt.

"John, look at this," she sighed, pointing to a mark on the table. "Paint. From Will. And this," she said, pointing to deep gauge in the wood, "Olivia, scissors. And then here's my favorite," she said, pointing to a large burn on the table, "Garrett and Jared, Food fight. Mashed potatoes."

"Damn, when did that happen?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Last week," she sighed. "So don't apologize for spilling your coffee. You apologize too much when you don't need to."

I nodded and watched her. She looked tired, but she would never admit it.

"Why is Olivia here?" I asked, diving right in.

"Kennedy is going through something right now. I don't know what, but he won't let anybody see him. I offered to take Olivia until he was better or until Pey got home. Where is she? You did go to Alabama with her, right?"

"I did," I sighed, glancing into my coffee cup like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"How was it?"

"It was," I paused, thinking of the right word. "It was hell."

"Oh, so you met Jessica, then?" she asked, a slight smirk on her face.

"What in the hell gives her the right to act the way she does?" I groaned, spinning the coffee cup around with my index finger.

"Jessica," she started, "Jessica is…"

"A complete bitch," I finished for her.

"That. But she's more. Even when Peyton lived there, Jessica was the apple of her parents' eye, you know. Peyton never tried to compete with it though." Julia shrugged. "So Jessica has always had the luxury of being a single child, even though she wasn't really."

"Well, Peyton moved in with her dad and she was an only child. She doesn't act the way Jessica does," I shrugged.

"That's because Peyton grew up with her dad. Bill is an amazing parent. Her mom and her step-dad, completely the opposite."

"She's spending a lot of time with her mom," I informed her. She just stared at me like the words I was speaking were foreign.

"Well," she bit her bottom lip, "it only took twenty-two years."

"Uncle John!"

I turned around to face Olivia, who was standing by the counter with her hip jutted out, her hand resting forcefully on it.

"You didn't even say hi! I didn't know you were here."

"I'm here, you goober. Come here." I smiled, holding my arms open. She ran and jumped, yes, forcefully jumped into them.

"You're all sweaty," I said, making a face and shaking my head.

"Uncle Garrett was teaching me the ways of Rock and Roll."

"Just the form. You have to talk to Uncle Jared about actually rocking," he said, swooping down to kiss Julia on the way to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. He tossed one to Olivia, who caught it with ease.

"What about me? I can shred," I said, pouting slightly.

"But Uncle Jared shreds harder." Olivia stated, matter of fact-ly.

"Get away from me," I joked, pushing Olivia off of my lap.

"Hey Liv, can you go check on Will for me? He was laying in our bed watching a movie a little while." Garrett asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Of course," she said, skipping away.

"When did you get here Johno?" Garrett asked, plopping onto the chair.

"Not too long ago. Just talking to your wife. Trying to convince her to leave your sorry ass for me."

"How's that working for you?" Garrett smirked.

"Terrible." I sighed. Julia just rolled her eyes at me, grabbing Garrett's hand resting on the table. It was so easy for them. They were so comfortable with each other.

I guess it wasn't always easy for them. They had their issues, mainly one by the name of Cameron, but they always seemed to make it through them.

"You chose the right day to be back in town," Garrett interrupted the silence. I looked at him curiously. "Tim signed us up for this charity event."

"Shit," I sighed, wiping my hand over my face. Not that I was against charity events, because I wasn't, it was the fact that I hadn't slept in over 24 hours and anything other than passing out sounded terrible to me right now. Especially if it involved physical activity. Playing a show sounded like a death sentence to me right now.

"What kind of event?" I asked, not bothering to open my eyes.

"Baseball game," Julia informed me. I opened my eyes and looked at her. She understood that I was tired, but the look on her face told me that now that I was here, there was no way Tim was going to let me out of it.

"On the upside," Garrett said, stretching his arms over his head, "we get to see Gibbs' drunk ass play baseball."

/\\/\\/\\/\\

"STRIKE THREE," the umpire yelled, and we all watched, bursting into hysterical laughter as Austin Gibbs turned around to yell at him. He threw his bat across the field and kicked the dirt. This was his second consecutive strike out.

"Joel, you're up next," Tim yelled, looking at his clipboard. The turn out for a charity baseball was actually surprising. At least we didn't have to play a show.

It had been years since I played baseball, but I got back into the swing of things pretty quick. Joel hit a double and barely jogged to second base, making it look as easy as could be.

"Fucking Joel fucking Kanitz and his fucking perfect hair," Austin muttered under his breath, lighting up a cigarette.

"Gibbs, can't that wait?" Tim asked, motioning to all of the young impressionable minds in the stands.

"You can suck my dick, or can that wait too?" Austin replied, glaring at Tim.

"Bad day?" I asked, fanning the smoke away from my face.

"Bad week," Austin sighed, smoking the cigarette at lightning speed. He threw it on the ground and stomped on it with his foot. "I need another beer."

"After the game buddy," Halvo said, throwing his arm around Austin.

"John, you're after…" Tim stopped when we finally saw Kennedy running down the side of the field.

"Well, look who decided to show up," Tim said, smacking Kennedy's ass as he passed, entering the dugout.

"John, you'll bat after Kennedy."

"Don't I get to warm up first?" Kennedy asked, slinging his bag onto the ground.

"Only people who show up on time get that luxury," Tim smirked.

"I miss the rest of my band," Halvo sighed as he looked to the outfield where Nick, Justin and Andrew were.

It was Arizonians against everyone else. We were playing against All Time Low, and yes, Jack Barakat was the Austin Gibbs of their team, This Providence, and of course, The Downtown Fiction, among others. The permanent glare hadn't left Garrett's face since he caught sight of Cameron. We had too many people on our team already, so we had forfeit most of The Summer Set to the other team, but that was okay. They were only good for soccer.

Kennedy, to everyone's surprise, hit a triple, sending Joel home, adding another point to our already victorious score.

"Alright John, let's keep this going!" Jared shouted, and the guys started clapping. I looked up to the stands to find Olivia, letting her know that this hit was for her, but all I found was someone I thought wouldn't be here. It felt like all of the air got sucked out of my lungs. Julia and Peyton were talking and laughing, Olivia squeezed between them. Olivia started waving, and I smiled and pointed at her. Peyton glanced my way, a scowl on her face. I tried to shake it off as I went up to the plate, but I couldn't. I missed the first to pitches, and tried jumping in place to loosen up. I glanced back at Olivia, whose face held a look of concern. I had to hit this pitch, for her. I blocked Peyton out of my thoughts and turned to face the pitcher.

/\\/\\/\\

"This is for my buddy, Johno, who hit the only home run of the game!" Austin stood up, holding his shot of tequila in the air. "Without him, well we would have still won, because the Gomez brothers sucked worse than me, but without him, we wouldn't have looked like the sexy team that we are!"

The team cheered and all grabbed their shots. I had been to this place multiple times, so the bartender knew my games. My clear liquid, though it may look like Vodka, was nothing more than water. We had a signal. When I wanted to keep up appearances or not seem rude by not drinking with someone, I gave her the signal. I took my shot of water, making a sour face to keep up the charade, and set my shot glass down.

"I'm sorry, but there are no kids allowed at the bar," the manager informed us. I looked at Olivia, who had just run in through the front door, Kennedy trailing behind her.

"Olivia, I told you to stay in the car. You're going back to Julia and Garrett's house."

"I just wanted to tell Uncle John something, daddy," she rolled her eyes, still running towards me.

"Oh come on, Jim." I said, looking at the bar manager. We went to high school together, he was a few years ahead of me. Jim looked at me and then down at Olivia, who had positioned herself right under my arm.

"Okay, O'Callaghan. But just this once."

I nodded and offered him a smile.

"You hit a home run! For me!" she squealed ecstatically.

"All for you," I smiled, picking her up.

"And Peyton was there, and this was just the best day ever!" she kept talking circles around my head, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Do you know when Peyton got back?" I asked her.

"She showed up with daddy," Olivia shrugged, antsy to get down. "I need to go talk to Gibbs. He sucked it up so bad!" she said, walking towards Austin, who only laughed at her insults, picking her up to sit on his lap.

I looked around the room and saw everyone, Julia and Garrett talking to Kennedy, The Gomez brothers talking to Justin and Nick, but I couldn't find Peyton.

A part of me was glad. I was glad that I didn't know where she was, because if I did, I would try to talk to her, and that would only make things worse. I needed to give her space, she needed to fix whatever she had going on in her head.

The only thing that had my fists clenched was what Olivia said. Kennedy was late to the game because he was talking to Peyton.

He was talking to my Peyton.

Shut up John, she never was and will never be yours.

Maybe it was time to switch to real alcohol.

Before I could turn back to the bar, Peyton descended the stairs of the entrance, a smile plastered to her face as the boys all went running towards her. I guess they missed her. I didn't get the same greeting when they saw me this morning. She answered all of their questions, hugging each of them as they approached her. I ordered a beer and threw my body down on a stool. Julia joined me a few minutes later, sipping on a Dr. Pepper.

"So what happened," she asked, continuing the conversation we were having this morning.

"I slept with Jessica," I replied, taking a long chug of beer.

She practically spit her drink everywhere. "YOU DID WHAT?"

"Chill. I didn't really sleep with Jessica. Jessica just told Peyton that I did."

"You didn't sleep with her? And you're telling me the truth?"

"Why would I ruin my relationship with Peyton, Julia? She's all I have wanted since I was 12."

"John, she's married."

"Thanks for the newsflash." I groaned, standing up and walking away from her. This conversation was not helping me in the least.

I was about to head outside when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I stopped and turned around, immediately glaring.

"Can we talk?" Peyton asked, adjusting her bag, something she did when she was nervous.

"You want to talk now? Because yesterday, if I seem to remember correctly, you didn't want to talk while you were throwing my Toms at my head."

"Please," she sighed, brushing her bangs out of her face. I downed the rest of my beer and set it on a table. I extended my hand, telling her to lead the way. I knew this was a bad idea before we even started talking.

"What do you want Peyt-" but as soon as that door shut, her lips were on mine, fingers knotted in my hair. Talk about the total opposite of what I expected. I pushed her away, rougher than I had meant to, and just stared at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I know you didn't sleep with Jessica," she said, nervously tapping her fingers on her dress. "I guess I always knew, I just. I let her get the best of me, again."

"You can't do this," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "You can't come home, show up with Kennedy and then take me outside to do… whatever this is."

"John, I told Kennedy about us, about what happened in Alabama. Do you know what he told me?"

I shook my head, only imagining.

"He told me that he was relieved. Because guess what, Gabi kissed him."

I sighed. "This whole thing, this whole love triangle we have going on, damn it Peyton, this isn't an episode of the fucking OC. This is my life. This is your life. This is Kennedy's life. What makes us take it for granted? And don't say that you don't, because you do. How can you throw away your marriage for me? You don't even love me like you love him, Peyton. You don't, you can't. I won't let you." I finally said, pleading with her to understand me.

"I don't understand," she finally said, her hand resting gently on her baby bump.

"Kennedy is your husband. You both fucked up, okay, it happens, but you can't just let a few little things determine the outcome of your lives. You can't let me, or Gabi or anyone else ruin what you and Kenny have worked so hard for. You have both fought tooth and nail to be where you are today, Peyton. Fight for it."

She glanced through the window of the establishment, and I followed her gaze. Kennedy was inside, his head tilted back in laughter at something Jared had just said, and my heart felt like it was breaking. For him, my best friend. For Peyton, the only girl I have ever loved. And for me, because I could never have her.

"This game we're playing, Peyton," I started, grabbing her attention again. "This game ends now. You can't keep running back and forth between us. It's not doing anyone a bit of good. You have twins on the way," I smiled lightly, "and they need to be brought into this world to a happy life, not this," I gestured between us. She stifled a sob and wiped a tear from her eye, nodding, finally understanding what I was trying to say.

For the first time in my life, I was making adult decisions, I was doing what I needed to do.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't killing me.

"Go," I said, nodding towards the entrance. "Go be with your husband, value the time you have with him before tour. Because when we leave, we will be gone for months. Go fix the mess you have made. You love Kennedy, Peyton. Not me."

"But I-" she started, but I had already turned around and walked back inside before I could hear what she was going to say. I had a feeling it wouldn't have mattered much anyway.

/\\/\\/\\

"I am so done with bitched and hoes," Austin slurred, swinging his bottle as he talked. "I am ready for a woman."

"Why would you want that?" I stammered. "Women, they're evil," I said, taking another sip of my beer. Austin and I were walking the streets of Tempe, too drunk to drive, and too drunk to ultimately care.

"Kennedy's a lucky sonofabitch," Austin sighed, finishing the bottle and dropping on the sidewalk behind him.

"Don't remind me," I sighed, tossing my bottle to the side and listening for the shatter.

"You had sex with that," Austin shook his head, tightening his grip on my shoulder.

"Twice," I nodded.

"I haven't gotten laid in weeks."

"I haven't gotten laid in months," I sighed.

"Was it that porno?" Austin chuckled. I punched him. He knew why I did that; he didn't have to bring it up right now.

"What's with all of the cops?" Austin asked as we watched the fourth cop car zoom by, lights flashing.

"They're putting us in jail."

"What fer?" Austin asked, his southern drawl really coming out.

"Me, for being so god damn sexy. And you for having a 70's porno stache."

"DO NOT INSULT THE STACHE," Austin shouted, and I was sure everyone on the block heard him.

A few more blocks and we found what the cop cars were for.

There was a wreck.

It was an all too familiar car.

I leaned over and threw up, suddenly finding air hard to come by.

Why did life work like this?


	7. Jesus Don't Touch My Baby

The hospital was sometimes a place of joy, most often a place of sadness, and a usually place to come to terms with just how cruel the world could be. Three of my best friends were in a wreck tonight. Well. Four I suppose, though I didn't know one as well as I would have liked.

The waiting room was jam packed of family, friends, strangers. There were tears; that much was evident; there were so many tears. We haven't had an update in hours and it was making everyone antsy. I was sober at this point, just seeing that wreck instantly made me instantly less inebriated.

Nobody talked about the fact that they might not be alive; nobody even uttered the words. The wreck was bad though. It was so bad. Austin hadn't said a word since we came in, he was so silent it was starting to scare me. I looked around at all of my friends and desperately wished I could do anything to cheer them up. Seeing them all worried and hurt was terrible.

"I'm going to go get coffee, do you want any?" I asked Austin. He just shook his head, his eyes locked on the floor. I forcefully dragged my fingers through my hair and stood up, stretching in the process. I guess I could have asked if anyone wanted anything, but they were all too busy to listen.

"Text me if something happens," I instructed Austin, tapping his leg with my fingertips. He nodded. I didn't want shitty hospital coffee and there was a Starbucks around the corner.

I set off in that direction, walking aimlessly, trying to get my mind off of what awaited me back at the hospital. They got hit head on by a truck twice the size of their small car. It was not a sight for a weak stomach, that was for sure. It looked like there was no way anyone could have survived that wreck. They might not. We don't know. We can't see them until they are in recovery.

I made it to starbucks, ordered my venti black coffee and made my way back to the gloom pit. Friends weren't supposed to get together under these circumstances. Friends were supposed to get together and sing, laugh, have a good time. They weren't supposed to sit idly in a big bland room with solemn expressions on their faces, all of their hope slipping through with every second. This was exactly what I came back to, not a thing changed.

I was a mess on the inside right now, but I wasn't going to let it show. If I lost it, that would be it. Everyone kept looking at me to make sure I was still okay.

If anything happened, it would affect me so much more than it would affect anyone else. Not that it wouldn't affect everyone else, it would. These are amazing people, and they didn't deserve this.

I looked up just as the doctor was rounding the corner, I was on my feet before he even moved another inch.

"They guys are conscious," the doctor sighed, you could tell he was tired. "You can go see them if you wish. But don't expect them to say a lot. They were in the backseat. Their injuries aren't as extensive, but they are still heavily medicated. They-" he continued to talk, but I bolted before he could finish. I got halfway down the hall and realized he never said what room number. I turned around, but Austin had my back.

"304!" he shouted. I nodded and turned back around.

"Where's Sophia?" Nick asked as soon as I entered the door. The sight of him banged up yet again had me wishing it were anyone else. He didn't deserve this twice in the same year.

"She's still in surgery," I answered, sitting down next to his bed. I glanced over the bed next to him, the one that housed my other friend, but he was sleeping. He looked like hell as well.

"Is the baby," he started, but stopped, closing his eyes.

"Just don't think about it," I replied. "Everything will be fine. You have to believe it, Nick."

Just then a few more people filed in. I was sure they had a limit, so not everyone came.

"So do you," Nick said, and I had to catch my breath. This was all very real. I looked over to the bed next to him to find that he wasn't asleep. He was staring out of the window, a glassy look in his eyes. I was more than likely the last person he wanted to talk to right now. That was too bad.

"Hey," I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets. He glanced at me, but then looked away again.

"It's going to be okay, buddy," I tried. "She's going to be okay."

"You don't," he groaned as if talking physically hurt him, "you don't know that," he choked out. His arm was wrapped in a cast and elevated, he head had a few cuts, but other than the, he looked fine.

That cast did not look good for the band.

"Everything will be okay," I tried again.

"What about the twins, John," Kennedy said, looking at me. "What about Nick and Sophia's baby?" he asked. "They were in the front seat, John." Kennedy stopped to take a breath. "What if," he stopped, unable to finish.

"Do you want me to go ask the doctor?" I asked, trying to keep my composure. That thought had crossed my mind since the moment I saw the accident. What about the twins?

What about Peyton?

What about Nick and Sophia's baby?

Why did this have to happen?

"Please," Kennedy nodded. I wandered back into the hallway, scoping out the doctor. When I finally found him, he looked busy, but that didn't stop me.

"Can I ask you about Sophia Santino and Peyton Smith," I started and then sighed. "Peyton Brock, I mean. Peyton Brock."

"That information is not at liberty to be shared," the doctor said with an exaggerated sigh.

"I just," I started. "Look, I know you aren't supposed to tell me. And even though she isn't my wife, those could possibly be my twins, and my heart is so heavy right now, it is physically hard for to me breathe, so if you could just, I don't know, somehow let me know anything, I would be grateful."

"Well," the doctor said, looking at his watch. "Go ask her yourself, she should have just been wheeled into room 310."

I nodded and took off down the hallway, shouting a "thank you" behind me.

"Don't you dare say a word, John O'Callaghan," was the first thing out of her mouth.

"About what?" I asked, confused.

"You always told me I was a bad driver. Guess you were right," she halfway smiled. She looked terrible. Her forehead was bruised from where her airbag must have failed her and she hit it on the steering wheel. Like Kennedy, she had a cast on her right arm, but she also had one on her right leg.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her, gently sitting on the edge of her bed, smoothing her bangs out of her face.

"Like shit," she sighed.

"And," I started, almost too afraid to ask.

"They're fine, John," she smiled, instinctively placing her hand on her stomach. "We're all fine. How is Kennedy?"

"Well, our band may need to look for a replacement guitarist for this tour, but he's going to be fine," I reassured her.

"And Nick?"

"Just bruised," I said, still running my fingers through her messy hair.

"You need to go tell him that he's about to be a dad," Peyton said, and I didn't understand.

"What?"

"I know it's a few months early, but they have to do an emergency c-section on Sophia. They had no choice. They reassured me it would be okay," she said, but she looked scared.

"Shouldn't Nick be in there for that?" I asked.

"It may be too late," she sighed. I stood up to go tell him but she grabbed my hand.

"Don't leave me yet," she demanded. "Please."

"I need to go tell Nick."

"Promise you will be right back?" she asked, looking more frightened than I have ever seen her look.

"I promise."

I ran down down the hallway to tell Nick, but when I got there, he wasn't there. His bed was empty.

"Where did he go?" I asked everyone.

"They had to deliver their baby early, so he's in the operating room with Sophia," Austin informed me.

"Did anyone call Mama Santino?" I asked, looking around the room. Nobody spoke up. "Guys, I am not going to be the one who calls her. You guys can play rock, paper, scissors or something. I'm out," I said, turning back around to go back to Peyton.

"John," Kennedy spoke up, his voice still sounding like he was in a pain.

"Hm?" I asked, spinning around.

"How's my wife?"

"She's okay. The twins are okay," I answered, scratching the back of my neck.

"I need to see her," he said, throwing his legs over the side of his bed.

"Woah, buddy. Do you really think that's a good ide-"

"Shut up, Halvo," Kennedy sighed, making his way down the hall.

"310," I sighed as he passed me, looking at the guys still left in the room.

I guess I had to break my promise to Peyton to go back to her room, because Kennedy was gone for a while. The nurse came in and all shot us dirty looks because we told her we had no idea where he went, not wanting him to get in trouble. Not like she didn't already know. She wasn't stupid.

An hour later, Nick was escorted back to the room.

"Everything went great," he smiled.

"How is Sophia?" I asked.

"Amazing. So is our daughter," Nick said, the smile never leaving his face.

"Congratulations, buddy," I said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"I just wish it didn't have to happen this way," Nick sighed.

"What did you name her?" I asked.

"Amelia. Amelia Paige Santino." He smiled again. "Did anyone call my mom?" he asked.

"No. But here," I said, dropping my phone in his lap. "Go for it, buddy."


	8. Running

"Is everyone here?" Tim asked, surveying the room, taking note of who was present and who was running late. "We are still missing," he started, but I cut him a warning glance, and he instantly shut up.

"No, it looks like everyone is here," Garrett said, slumping down on the couch. Tim called an emergency tour meeting. Every band that was supposed to be on this tour was stuffed in Kennedy and Peyton's living room. They got back from the hospital two days ago, and I was staying here to help keep an eye on Olivia, who had caught a ride home with Garrett and Julia the night of the wreck. She has been here ever since. What Garrett didn't know is that we have been keeping a secret from him for the past few months, and it was going to come out today, in a matter of minutes.

"Well, then let's start this," Tim said, eyeing Garrett and making sure he wasn't in close range when Garrett went off, because we all knew it was coming. "We all need to decide what is going to happen with this tour."

"What do you mean?" Kennedy asked, his leg propped up on the coffee table, beer sweating in his right hand.

"You and Nick are both injured," Tim stated the obvious, "Do you really think you can play a months worth of shows with only one working hand?"

"No, but I mean, Gibbs is going on this tour, he can fill in for me, right?" Kennedy asked, looking at Austin. Austin tipped his beer in consent before taking a long drag. "I can just do back up vocals," he added, directing his attention back to Tim.

"What about you?" I asked, looking at Nick, the dark circles under his eyes evident.

"I'm fine to play," he shrugged and then continued, "but Amelia is a handful and I don't want to leave Sophia alone with her for that long."

"They can stay with Peyton," Kennedy said. Nick just stared at him. "Well, I mean, Peyton needs to learn some of this mothering stuff, and she doesn't want to be alone, you know. We already talked about it."

"I'll talk to Sophia about it," Nick smiled, grateful for the option.

"So it's settled then?" Tim asked. "The tour will go on?"

"Damn right it will," Kennedy said, lifting his beer, waiting for everyone to do the same. Everything went well until the final band entered the room, and I swear to god you could hear Garrett's jaw hit the floor and his blood boil. I felt for him, I really did. If we were going on tour with one of my wife's (if I had one,) ex boyfriends, I wouldn't be too ecstatic about it. Especially if he fathered the child I though of as my own. We hadn't told him that The Downtown Fiction was the final band on this tour, and I instantly felt like a traitor.

"Are you shitting me?" Garrett didn't even bother with whispering, making his distaste well known throughout the room. Bad vibes were happening and shit was about to hit the fan.

"Glad you boys could make it," Tim said, shooting Garrett a warning glance.

"Sorry, we got lost," Eric shrugged, stuffing his hands into his front pockets.

"It happens whenever we go anywhere," David informed us. Cameron just nodded and kept his mouth shut. I caught Garrett looking around the room at each of us, his gaze lingering a little too long on me. His face was a mix of hurt and sheer disgust.

"Okay, you guys didn't miss much." Tim informed them, looking down at his clipboard. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing towards a the couch, "If you can find anywhere to sit."

"This is bullshit," I heard Garrett whisper, shaking his head. Then he just decided against being polite and lost it. "This is BULLSHIT!" he yelled, standing up.

"Oh, a free seat!" Eric whispered to David, who giggled. Cameron, however, looked like he was about to run for it.

"Calm down, Garrett," Jared said, tugging on his arm to get him to sit back down. Garrett ripped his arm away and kept going.

"Don't tell me to calm down. Was anyone going to tell me?" he looked around the room. I glanced at Cameron, who was looking as uncomfortable as I had ever seen him. "Anyone at all?"

"No," I piped in, glaring at him. "This is why we weren't going to tell you," I sighed.

"So those tour posters you showed me, they were fake?"

"Yes."

"And when fans were tweeting me about them being on tour with us, they weren't messing with me. They really are touring with us."

"Yes."

"You weren't going to tell me until we were on the road, were you?"

"No."

"Fuck you. Fuck all of you," Garrett yelled. "Did Julia know about this?"

"No," I said, looking him in the eyes, making sure he knew that I was telling the truth. We kept this secret from her too, because she would have talked us out of it all together. We didn't put this tour together, Tim and Max did, along with the label. If it were up to me, I would have just booked another band and kept the peace.

At the mention of Julia's name, Cameron's attention was grabbed, and don't think Garrett didn't notice.

"I'm not going," Garrett stated simply, grabbing his beer off of the coffee table and falling back into his chair. "Nope, not going."

"Can it, Garrett," Pat chimed in. "We can't do it without you." He looked at Cameron and shot him a sympathetic look, which made him look even more like a puppy.  
"You guys don't have to like each other, you don't have to talk to each other, you don't even have to look at each other, but you're going on this tour Garrett, even if we have to drag you onto that bus, so be it."

"I love fights," Austin said to Kennedy, who shook his head. "I bet you 20 bucks Garrett punches him."

"Oh, Gibbs, you are on. Garrett would never," Kennedy shook his head.

"Stop it," I whispered, punching Gibbs in the arm.

"I'm not going," Garrett shrugged. "You can't make me." Garrett pulled out his phone and started thumbing through his contacts. "Who to replace me? Alex Silverman? They're not touring right now. How about Jobe? Better yet, fucking Halvo, he's already going to be there."

"There isn't enough time for them to learn the songs, Garrett. Gibbs is only filling in for Kennedy because he physically can't play and Gibbs played with us during 'An Evening With,' so he already knows the songs. Be realistic. You're going," I argued.

"Garrett," it was Jared's turn. "As your best friend, I need you to listen to me. Stop being an asshole, man up, put on your big girl panties or whatever and go on this tour. You have been excited for it for months."

"For months, you're right," Garrett said, lowering his voice, looking thoughtful. And then that all changed. "For months, months of everyone knowing that Cameron 'I leave my pregnant girlfriend' Leahy was going on this tour. Every single one of you can go to hell. I can't even trust my 'best friends.'" Those air quotes hurt a little bit.

"Maybe we just all knew that you would act this way." Kennedy mumbled to Austin.

"Just because you and John can put your past with Peyton behind you, doesn't mean that I can or that I have to. You didn't knock Peyton up and leave her."

"Can I say something?" Cameron asked, so low barely anybody heard him. Garrett didn't apparently, because he kept going on. He let Garrett go on for a few more seconds and then tried again. "Excuse me," he tried again.

"HEY," I yelled, earning the attention of everyone and getting Garrett to stop talking, finally. I looked over at Cameron and nodded.

"Look," he started. He was nervous. "I understand that we all have issues, and we've just uncovered years of baggage that we have all shoved away, hoping never to recover, but if you give us a chance, we aren't so bad. I understand that you don't like me, and I wouldn't like me either, but for the sake of our music and our fans, can we please, please put the past in the past. You don't have to like me, you don't have to talk to me ever again if you don't want, but dropping out of this tour would only disappoint our fans, and I don't want to do that. So Garrett," he paused to take a deep breath. Garrett just glared at him. "If it's possible, could we trudge on, go on tour and make the most of it?"

We all looked at Garrett for the reply he took his time giving. "Fine, but cross me once Leahy, and I swear to God, I will beat the shit out of you." With that, Garrett grabbed his car keys, mumbled a collective goodbye and left, more than likely telling Julia just how bad of friends we are. Hopefully she will understand why we did this.

/\\/\\/\\

"I can't believe he freaked like that," Peyton laughed, taking a sip of her milkshake. It was the day before we left for tour, and we decided to hang out. It would be over a month before we saw each other again, and it was nice to hang out like we used to.

"I knew it would happen. I knew it from the moment Tim told us the plan."

"I wonder if Julia's comfortable with her exes touring together."

"Well, you are," I smiled.

"I have to be," she shrugged easily, "You and Kennedy are back to being best friends. That's all I really wanted."

"Maybe Cameron and Garrett will be best friends before it's all over."

"I highly doubt that," she scoffed. "Cameron is an asshole, and Garrett is perfect."

"Woah, Garrett is perfect?" I laughed. She blushed.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she tried, but I wasn't buying it.

"Peyton Brock, hot for Garrett?"

"Shut up. I just meant compared to Cameron, Garrett is the perfect gentleman, perfect husband, perfect father. I am not hot for Garrett. He is like my brother."

"What's wrong with a little incest?"

"Oh gross," she shoved my chest with her good arm and started heading for the car. "Are you packed?" she asked while she waited for me to unlock the door of my parents Volvo.

"Do you think I'm packed?" I asked her, twisting the key in the ignition and bringing the car to life.

"Of course not. Let's go."

"You want to spend our last day together packing?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Well, Kennedy is picking me in a few hours, what else would we do?"

"Go to the park! Go see a movie! Go do SOMETHING, not pack."

"You would forget everything if I didn't help you," she shot me a look, and I couldn't argue. She was right. She was so right.

/\\/\\/\

"Tom Petty shirt," she called out from my closet.

"Take."

"John, you can't take every shirt you own," she groaned, tossing the shirt out of the closet.

"There is still room in my suitcase!" I defended, tossing the shirt in there.

"I know you didn't just throw that shirt in there without folding it."

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"I know you. Okay, you may still have room buddy, but you haven't packed shower stuff or anything like that."

"I like stinking," I groaned, falling back on my bed.

"No, you don't. Okay, I'm packing the REO Speedwagon shirt, just because it's my favorite. That's it. No more clothes."

"Fine, fine. Can we stop packing?"

"No. Not until I make sure you pack everything."

"Woman, you're killing me. Stop it."

"How am I killing you? What did I do? I just care about making sure you have everything."

"But it's our last day! For a month!"

"Fine, what do you want to do?"

"Well how long until Kennedy gets here?"

"An hour," she replied, leaning her crutch again the wall and laying down next to me.

"An hour, hm. We could talk. We haven't really done that in a long time," I suggested. We really hadn't. Ever since the conversation at the bar, the wreck and the conversation that followed that, it was an unspoken agreement that we would never bring those conversations up ever again. I helped Peyton realize that she was with who she was supposed to be with. She helped me understand that I have something to look forward to: Love.

So we talked, about everything, about nothing, about childhood, about dreams. We talked until her husband came to pick her up and remind me that she wasn't mine, and she never would be.

/\\/\\/\\

The first day of tour was something I have missed. We hadn't been on tour in so long, and waking up, knowing you were leaving today to do something you love to do with your best friends for a month, well it was a feeling that was hard to beat. Peyton called to make sure I was up, and wouldn't get off of the phone until we went through a checklist at least four times making sure I had everything. Believe me, I don't think there was anything left to leave. This tour, we weren't leaving on a tour bus, we were flying to Virginia and starting the tour there. Don't ask me, I didn't make the decision. Our buses were waiting there, so we just go wherever they tell us. My parents drove me to the airport, they always did. They don't cry anymore though, thank god. Everyone else's wife or girlfriend drove them, which just made me feel like the most single person on the planet.

Everything was going fine, smooth even, until Cameron accidently knocked over Garrett's Starbucks. This gave Garrett something to bitch about. He bitched so loud, he was earning stares from strangers. Garrett didn't bitch, ever, so it was weird for everyone to see him like this. Cameron looked like a kicked puppy. It went on for too long, so I excused myself and decided to walk down the terminal, people watch. It was one of my favorite past times. Hopefully when I got back, Garrett would be done being a dick, and we could start this tour in good spirits. I still had thirty minutes before we boarded, and I was in no hurry to get back.

It happened so fast, she hit me so hard that I lost my balance, so did she; we were a mess of limbs and luggage. I sat up and immediately reached for her to make sure she was okay, and then I felt like all of the air in the entire airport just evacuated the building, leaving me feeling like a fish out of water.

"O'Callaghan, we have to stop meeting like this," she sighed, adjusting her dress, pulling up one of her boots.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, reaching for her bag that had flown a few feet away.

"Obviously about to catch a plane. Shit I'm going to miss it." She hopped up and grabbed her bags, offering her hand. I took it and she pulled me up too forcefully, causing me to crash into her again.

"Jesus Christ," she said, letting go of my hand and rubbing her shoulder. I threw my hands up in surrender, not wanting to cause her anymore pain.

"Are you ever going to tell me how I know you, Parker?"

"Are you a gambling man, O'Callaghan?" she asked, walking backwards, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Not really," I shrugged, rubbing the back of my neck, debating on whether or not she wanted me to follow her.

"Gate 23. If you're a gambling man I'll see you there," she winked at me and turned around, walking away from me, leaving our conversation in the air.

I looked at my watch and started to head back to my gate, we should be boarding soon. I rounded the corner and saw Jared and Pat restraining Garrett. Was this what the whole tour would be like? It was at that moment that I decided I was a gambling man, and I tried to talk myself out it the whole run to the ticket desk, but I couldn't. I thought of the fans, I thought of the guys, I thought of my career. Then I thought of my life lately, and how it wasn't going anywhere. Well, right now, Gate 23 was calling my name. Parker was calling my name. I switched my phone off, ran onto the plane as fast as I could.

She didn't even look up from her book. "Didn't know you had it in you, O'Callaghan."

"Me either," I said, trying to catch my breath. "So we're going to New Orleans?"

"We're going to New Orleans," she nodded.

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked. She set her book down and looked at me, her green eyes meeting my own. She smiled and then buckled her seatbelt.

"Oh yeah, you will regret this. I am trouble, O'Callaghan."

"Trouble is my middle name. Bring it on."


	9. The Brightest Green

"O'Callaghan, John." I heard a booming voice over all of the muffled conversations. I stood up and walked towards the voice, hope radiating through me. "You've got one phone call."

_24 hours earlier_

The plane ride was pleasant; the company was interesting to say the least. It was still killing me that I couldn't place where I knew Parker. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, I was taken to the past, I just couldn't put my finger on where or when. From this plane ride I've learned: Her name is Parker Simon, she's twenty-one years old and a nursing student. She's going to New Orleans for Spring Break. That's all she's told me. She's done nothing but ask me questions since our plane left Arizona ground. She avoids any personal questions I ask, and shifts the conversation back to me. She also has the most insane green eyes I have ever seen.

"Why New Orleans?" I asked her, gazing over her shoulder and out of the window. She bit her lip, gazing at me life she didn't know if she wanted to tell me or not.

"Well," she paused and smirked. "Don't laugh. Promise me."

"Why would I laugh?" I chuckled. "You aren't down here to like, strop to pay off student loans are you?"

"Actually…" she trailed off, wiping her hands on her jeans. My eyes got wide and she started laughing. "No. I've had this list since I was like, ten years old, of places that I want to go before I get too old to properly enjoy them."

"And how many places have you crossed off of this list?" I asked.

"This will be the first one," she grinned. "Finally making a small dent in it."

"How many places are on it?"

"Oh, I don't know," she shrugged, focusing her attention on something out of the window.

"Liar. You have it with you, don't you?"

"Why would you assume that?" she challenged, returning her focus on me and leaning back against the window.

"Because. You want that big moment when you finally get off of the plane, step foot on New Orleans soil, you grab a pen and you finally get to mark it off."

She bit her lip and looked up at me from under her lashes, her green eyes sparkling. She reached into her bag and pulled out a journal. It was old, leather bound and ragged. The initials "JRS" were engraved at the top.

"What's 'JRS' stand for?" I asked, being nosy.

"Nothing," she shrugged of my question. It didn't go unnoticed. She opened the book to a page bookmarked with a brown ribbon.

"Seventy-four places" she said, without looking at the book. She did know. I scanned over the list, feeling a sort of sadness that I couldn't begin to explain. I had been to almost every place on her list. I didn't feel the need to bring up this fact, because it would seem as if I was rubbing it in her face.

"Well," I said, flipping the page to look at the last of the seventy-four places. "I'm honored to accompany you while you cross one of them off of our list."

She smiled briefly. "What are you running from?"

"Pardon?"

"A guy doesn't just hop on a plane with a random girl. Sure, it may happen in a movie, but this is real life. You're running."

"Actually, I'm not running."

"Why were you at the airport?" she asked, stealing my bag of pretzels.

"My band was leaving on tour," I shrugged, like me leaving was no big deal. She nearly choked on her pretzel.

"Are you serious? Jesus. You really are a gambling man. Shit."

"Tour officially starts in a few days. I may miss one show. I've never actually missed one before. It's not a big deal." I wanted to drop it, because this was making me feel worse than I already did, leaving my band like that.

"Aren't you like, the lead singer? Who are they going to get to fill in? Will they cancel the show?"

"They'll figure it out. Maybe Kennedy can do it. I may not even miss a show. Who knows?"

"When we land, you're buying a ticket and going on tour. I can't be known as 'that girl who broke,'" she paused.

"The Maine," I filled in for her, smiling.

"The Maine up," she paused and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Maybe I want to see you experience a destination on your list. Maybe this started out being about me, but now it's not anymore. Maybe there's no way I could leave now. " I challenged. The grin she was previously sporting turned into a genuine smile, accompanied by a hint of a blush. That was the end of that conversation, and a comfortable silence took place the rest of the flight.

/\\/\\/\\/\\

"I switched planes last minute. There's no way my bags are going to be here." I sighed, watching the carousel make it's fourth circle around.

"Have faith, O'Callaghan," was all she said.

"I'm trying," I sighed, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"It's black, right?" she asked, again.

"Yes. With white peace signs on it."

"Does it have a blue tag?" she asked.

"No," I sighed again.

"Oh," she sighed as well, defeated.

"It's fine," I shrugged, placing my arm around her shoulder, leading her towards the door.

"Are you sure? You have no clothes and-"

"I tour nine months out of the year. I am used to being dirty."

As soon as we stepped outside Parker pushed her sunglasses down on the bridge of her nose, reached into her bag for her journal and a pen. I watched as she crossed New Orleans off of her list, her smile never quite as bright as it was in that moment.

/\\/\\

The awkwardness that I was expecting never did kick in. You know what I'm talking about. I don't really know Parker. So when we were in our hotel room, just the two of us, it was like it was normal even though we barely knew each other. It was like we have known each other longer than a few hours. She was standing in an oversized shirt, applying her make up in the bathroom mirror, while I was walking around in my towel. I only had one pair of clothes, might as well take advantage of the free washers and dryers our hotel had.

"So what's on the agenda today?" I asked, laying down on the bed, lounging and flipping through channels on the television.

"Well," she started, and then I heard her yelp and drop everything. I stood up and rushed into the bathroom to find her holding her hand.

"I'm fine," she shrugged, sticking her finger in her mouth while she crouched down, putting all of the spilled make-up products back into her case. She stood up and put it on the counter, turning on the water and sticking her finger under the faucet. "Just burnt myself on my curling iron."

"Are you usually this clumsy?" I chuckled, gently grabbing her hand and examining the burn. It was accompanied by a few others.

"Oh, you have no idea. Why do you think every time we meet, one or both of us end up on the floor?"

"I thought that was me," I shrugged. "Or maybe you just found me so attractive that I made your knees buckle."

"Oh yeah, that's what it is," she smiled, retracting her hand out of my grasp and picking up the curling iron again. "I'll be ready in a bit."

/\\/\\/\\

We did New Orleans. It was Mardi Gras, of course it was. We had some drinks, we watched the parade, we had some drinks, we caught some beads, we had some

drinks. When I said we had some drinks, I guess that was a bit of an understatement. We were pretty plastered, not going to candy-coat it for you. Lost somewhere in the hustle and bustle of New Orleans, I boldly crossed that friends threshold and grabbed her hand. She crossed that threshold right with me when she laced our fingers together. We both crossed a whole other threshold down an empty alley. It may not have been perfect as far as first kisses go, I mean New

Orleans is a dirty city, the trash in the back of the alley didn't smell so great, but it was easy to let all of the imperfections sink slowly to the back of my mind. Instead, I focused on how soft her skin was under my fingertips, how shallow our breaths got when the kiss escalated. I focused on how easy it was for me to lose myself in her, how I had only really known her for the course of a day, and even though I knew we

had met before, I still couldn't place her, and right now, it wasn't bothering. It would come to me eventually. I pulled away and reached for her hand again. I ran my fingers gently over her burn, slowly bringing her hand to my lips and kissing it softly. Her eyes were glassy with the alcohol induced high as she let go of my hand and brushed my hair out of my face.

"You're beautiful," I whispered, speaking before I thought. I didn't regret saying it though; it was true. She responded by reconnecting our lips one last time before she slipped her hand into mine, leading me back towards the busy street we were walking down to begin with.

After about an hour of walking, a frustrated sigh left Parkers mouth. "Which way was the hotel?"

"I'm too drunk to even think," I sighed, wrapping my arms around, planting a tiny kiss to her neck. The March air was a little chillier than it was in Tempe and the alcohol was making me a little more touchy feely than I would have been otherwise. She didn't seem to mind.

The street traffic was thinning, and soon we were pretty much alone. We walked a few more blocks and then before I knew it, Parker let go of my hand and took off running. I called after her, but she just waved for me to follow her.

"Where are you going?" I yelled out, too drunk to even think about running.

"Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming," is what I could vaguely hear her singing. By the time I caught up with her, I was following a trail of clothes. I reached down and picked up her bra, raising one of my eyebrows. Pinch me, I must be dreaming. I turned the corner and found her head poking up over the side of the pool.

"Skinny dipping? Are you crazy? It's cold!" I shook my head. "You're in someone's pool, Parker!"

"It's heated! I thought you were a gambling man, O'Callaghan. Are you too chicken?" she asked, wiping the water out of her eyes. She ducked under the water for a few seconds and I used that opportunity to strip and jump in as fast as I could. Before I even surfaced, I saw a light turn on, the house's back porch light. Parker placed her finger over my mouth to warn me to be quiet. We ducked behind the side of the pool, each looking at each other, fear in our eyes. I shrugged. The light turned off a second later and both of us exhaled the breaths we were holding.

"Okay, O'Callaghan," she smiled. "Close your eyes while I get out."

"Wait," I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards me. "We just got in."

"We also just almost got caught," I whispered.

"Isn't that part of the fun?" I asked, kissing her softly.

"No, it's not part of the fun," a deep voice spoke up, shining a flashlight in our eyes. "Fun's over."

/\\/\\/\\

I walked into the lobby of the police station, hands stuffed in my pockets. The grin awaiting me was mocking, and he was trying not to laugh.

"Don't," I sighed, waiting for him to lay it on me.

"You get one phone call, and you call me? You are damn lucky that Tim let me come. He was debating on whether or not to just let you sit here for a few days."

"I'm sure everyone would have loved that. Are they all mad?"

"Of course they are. Tour starts tomorrow."

"I was going to be there on time, I swear."

"Sure you were. Why did you call me?"

"Well, you were the only that I could see understanding the situation."

"That you got arrested for skinny dipping?"

"Yes, Austin. That I got arrested for fucking skinny dipping."

"So, was there a chick involved in this skinny dipping."

"No, I felt the need to skinny dip in some random person's pool by myself."

Austin opened the door and held it open for me, the harsh New Orleans sun hurting my already throbbing head.

"Wait, I need to check on Parker," I said, pausing and turning back around. Austin just grabbed my arm and kept walking.

"Tim said that if we don't make our flight, he was going to skin both of us. We are already running late. I'm sorry, buddy."

"Austin, please," I begged, trying to get out of his grasp.

"Fuck," he sighed, wiping his eyes in frustration. "Five minutes, but I swear to god John, if you are late I will leave you and then you have to deal with Tim alone."

"Thanks Gibbs," I smiled and ran back inside. I ran up to the desk and asked the lady if Parker had already left.

"I'm sorry, but there was nobody detained here last night by the name of Parker Simon."

"I'm sorry?" I asked. "We came in together last night. She has blonde, green eyes."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you. I've got too much going on to deal with this right now." She checked her files again. "There was never a Parker Simon here."

I walked back outside and followed Austin to the cab, ignoring his questions. There was never a Parker Simon there. I know she got detained just as I had. One thing that was evident. Parker Simon was hiding something. Parker Simon wasn't Parker Simon at all.


	10. Let the Games Begin

Two weeks into the tour and not a day went by where my mind didn't make that slow, agonizing trip down Parker lane. Or whatever her real name was. It was annoying that every single guy in my band, and even guys in other bands, wouldn't drop the fact that I got arrested for indecent exposure. Sure, it wasn't a highlight of my life, but they've done worse. One would think that after two weeks of other tour antics, it would be old news. One would think… I was curled up in my bunk, watching Fight Club while the rest of my band were meeting fans.

I was being a dick this tour and I knew it. I heard what my band said when I wasn't listening, I read the tweets. Fans were disappointed that I put on a half-assed, sloppy show and stayed in the bus while everyone else was sociable. Some would call this depression, but I just called one giant pity party. Fiesta de John. I finally made that jump, that giant leap and let myself like someone other than Peyton. A lot of good that did me.

Believe me, the thoughts in my head of why Parker would claim to be someone she isn't were running rampant in my head. Serial killer? Too nice. Hiding from an ex boyfriend? Likely. But the one that won out over other scenario: she just didn't want me to know.

"Are you ever going to let it go?" Kennedy asked, interrupting my movie and my fiesta de John. I didn't bother giving him a reply, just started closing the curtain to my bunk.

"Mature man," Kennedy scoffed throwing the curtain to my bunk back open, piercing me with those brown eyes that were laced with worry and just a hint of inebriation. "Everyone keeps asking where you are. Two weeks. For two weeks you've holed yourself in here. We've had enough man. Can we just have one tour go smoothly?"

"I vote next tour," I sighed, trying to close my curtain again, but Kennedy's arm wasn't going to allow that to happen.

"I came in here to talk to you, not to be shut out like you have been doing to everyone."

"'Bout what?" I asked, concentrating more on my movie than on Kennedy.

"Peyton had a check up today." Just like that, he gained my attention. I paused my movie and sat up, suddenly interested in what my band mate had to say.

"Why didn't she call me?" I asked, a little hurt.

"You haven't had your phone on in two weeks, genius."

"Oh yeah," I shrugged. I liked having little contact with the outside world. "Is everything fine?"

"Seems to be," Kennedy stared at me like I was missing something.

"Parker was there, wasn't she?" I asked, picking at a hole in my jeans.

"In the flesh."

"Well, at least now I know she made it back to Tempe." I sighed, the hole in my jeans getting larger by the second. "Did Peyton say anything else?"

"No. She decided to stay out of it. It's your business."

"I hate you for telling her about everything that happened in New Orleans."

"She's my wife, of course I did. She got a kick out of it."

"I'm the fucking laughing stalk of every single person we know, aren't I?"

Kennedy didn't reply, he simply shut the curtain and exited the bus. I would take that as a "yes."

I broke down and plugged my phone into the charger, waiting as it took it's sweet time powering on. I hadn't turned it on in two weeks and my temperamental iPhone was doing nothing but pissing me off. A few minutes later and my phone finally powered on fully. I watched as it buzzed countless times, alerting me of every text or call I had missed. It felt like it was never going to end. I counted thirty-four calls from the day I left my band at the airport. Five calls from my mom, would call her back later. Much later. Ten calls from Peyton, one dating today. I assume that was to inform me of her doctor's visit. A few numbers I didn't know. The occasional call from Julia, more than likely making sure that Garrett and Cameron were behaving. There were none from Parker, not that I even expected any. We hadn't exchanged phone numbers. It would be easy to contact her, but I wasn't sure that I even wanted to. What would I say? I wasn't even going to bother reading the text messages. I set my phone down next to me and stared at the ceiling of my small bunk. Things had to change.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"John."

I heard it, so loud, but I ignored it.

"John."

I ignored that one too.

"John, John, John, John, John…"

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I ripped open the curtain. I was seething with anger. "What the fuck do you want Pat?"

There was a rule that none of us could yell at Pat. He was like a puppy. You just didn't yell at him, but right now, I could give two fucks less. He looked like I shot his mom.

"Well?" I asked again, irritated at the fact that he thought it was a good idea to wake me up at 3 in the morning and then not even tell me what was going on. Kennedy stepped onto the bus, sizing up the looks Pat and I were giving each other.

"You yelled at him?" Kennedy asked, cradling Pat under his arm. Pat laid his head on Kennedy's shoulder and crossed his arms, looking at the ground.

"For fuck's sake. I'm sorry Pat," I sighed. "Will someone tell me what's going on?"

"Bus call was an hour ago. We can't find Garrett."

"David said they can't find Cameron," Jared shouted onto the bus as he entered. I was not in the mood for a search party, but I guess I was being recruited.

"Come on," Kennedy said to Pat, grabbing his arm and gently leading him off of the bus. Pat looked back at me once, his face still full of hurt. I probably should have felt bad, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why I didn't.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/

It took us forty-five minutes of walking in the cold Boston air before we found them. We wouldn't have found them if it hadn't have been for Nick rambling off the names of all of the places they could be. Thank god he had home field advantage.

They were in a bar. They were in a shitty bar. They were in a shitty bar, obviously drunk beyond belief, holding hands, singing karaoke together. We all stared in amusement as they sang the chorus to "Keep On Loving You" by REO Speedwagon. All I could think was how in the world could Julia be missing this.

I wondered what had happened in the past few hours that turned enemies into, what looked like, best friends. Maybe this tour was shaping up to not be a bust after all.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Did you hear me nail that note?" Cameron asked to no one in particular. We all grumbled in agreement. In reality, he was nowhere close to hitting any one note he sang at all. Garrett nodded his head fervently, leaning on Cameron to keep his balance. Cameron subsequently, was leaning on me to keep his balance. I, John O'Callaghan, man who wanted to do nothing but sleep the night away, was supporting two guys drunk out of their mind. Nobody was helping me because everyone else was walking behind us, laughing at my misfortune. I guess this was what I got for leaving my band at the airport.

"Dude, did you hear the note I hit?" Garrett slurred. "It was like Ryan Adams jumped into my throat and belted out a sweet melody."

"Couldn't have said it better, brother," Cameron agreed, falling to the ground. "No more. I want to sleep."

"Me too," Garrett agreed, also dropping the ground and kicking his boots off.

"Get out of the road," I kicked Cameron. "Put your fucking shoes back on, Gary."

"Fuck you," they both shouted in unison and then turned to one another, giggling like little school girls.

"I give up. You deal with them," I said to the rest of the guys, just standing there, amusement all over their faces.

"John, wait." Garrett spat out, lifting himself off the ground enough to see me. "Let's go skinny dipping."

"Oh good idea!" Cameron shouted, giving Garrett a fist bump. "Let's be smart enough not to get arrested though."

"Fucking funny," I sighed, turning around and heading back towards the buses.

"John wait," I heard Jared call. If it would have been anybody else, I would have kept walking, but Jared had this hint of annoyance in his voice just like I did. He didn't find this amusing as everyone else did. "Please, just help me get them back to the buses. We'll give them hell for this tomorrow."

I squatted down and shoved Garrett's feet back into his shoes. "Garrett, I will give you a shot of whiskey if you jump on my back."

"Forreal?" Garrett asked, wide eyed and suddenly willing to cooperate.

"Cross my heart," I said, offering my hand and pulling him up. Jared somehow got Cameron to cooperate and get out of the middle of the road. Garrett jumped on my back, almost choking me in the process. He wasn't as light as I would have liked him to be, but it wasn't bad. It wasn't bad until he threw up all over my shirt.

That asshole threw up all over the back of my REO Speedwagon shirt. He thought it was funny. I thought it was funny enough to warrant him a good punch in the face.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

When my phone buzzed around 11 AM, I robotically accepted the call, not even bothering to looking at the caller id.

"Hm," I said into the receiver, slowly opening my eyes to get oriented and greet this bright new day.

"John?"

I sighed. I wasn't in the mood for this. Say what you need to say and move on.

"Yup," I said, yawning in the process.

"It's Parker," she said. The line was quiet for a long time before I cleared my throat. She took that as a sign to start talking again and I was thankful because my mouth had gone so dry the thought of talking sounding like something I was physically incapable of right now. "I'm sorry that it took me so long to call. I kind of went through the files at the office and got your number."

"Why are you calling me?" I asked. It came out before I could think through what I was going to say, and it came out harshly, but that was okay by me.

"I…" she started, but never finished.

"You…?"

"I wanted to apologize," she said. She sounded nervous. Good.

"For which part? Lying to me, lying to me, or hm, lying to me?"

"Actually, for getting us arrested. I never lied to you."

"So Parker, you never lied to me Parker? Well Parker, that sounds like a load of bullshit PARKER."

"How did you find out?" she sighed.

"Just explain it to me, please. Please explain to me why you felt the need to lie to me."

"I didn't. My name is Parker. It's what I go by, John. I changed my name years ago, I just haven't changed it legally yet."

"Why did you change your name?" I asked, getting more irritated by the second. She was silent for about a minute.

"I think we should talk in person when you get back in town."

"Do you?"

"Look, if you choose to hate me, fine. I just," she started, but never finished. She did this a lot and it was eating at my last nerve.

"Why do you want to meet in person? So you can lie to me some more?"

"Are you even listening to a word I have said?"

"Why should I? I left my band at the airport to be with you."

"I didn't make you come with me, John."

"I left my band because some pretty girl challenged me to take a risk. So I did. Mistake number one. I get to know the girl, or so I thought, who knows though. Every word out of her mouth could have been laced with lies."

"This isn't fair…"

"What isn't fair is that I let myself develop feelings for you. Feelings that I wish would burn in hell."

"Don't say that..."

"Parker, or whatever your name is, either you tell me now what the big secret is, or we just go on with our lives and forget New Orleans."

"I really think I should tell you in person."

"You don't get the luxury of deciding how you get to explain it to me. You apparently aren't going to tell me now."

"Why are you being like that?"

"Because I don't let myself begin to fall for people easily, but with you, I let my guard down and you did nothing but lie. You're the one who has to live with it, not me. Don't call me again."

And with that, I hung up my iPhone. I had no idea where we were today, but wherever we were gained an iPhone as I threw it out of the window.

I wasn't going to let this eat at me. She lied to me. It was as simple as that.

/\\/\\/\\

"That's the third phone you've had this year," Jared said, not even bothering to look up from his cereal.

"Shit happens," I shrugged.

"Shit wouldn't have anything to do with a certain blonde who goes by a fake name would it?"

"That's exactly what shit had to do with. That's over now."

"Fuck," Jared sighed, letting his spoon fall to his bowl. He finally looked up at me and I don't think either of us liked what we saw. He looked tired and worried. I looked angry and hurt.

"Is this the return of John O'Callaghan, manwhore extraordinaire?"

"Fuck," I sighed. "I think it is."

It wouldn't take me as long to get Parker out of my system as it did with Peyton. From what I was feeling right now, Parker was dead to me. But I had to fill that empty void with something.

"Just be careful," Jared said. "And apologize to Pat for god's sake. He's been on the verge of crying all night."


	11. While the Fire Was Out

Hey guys. I am sorry this chapter is lacking detail, I just couldn't get it right, it isn't a big important chapter anyway. I apologize.

/\/\/\/\/\

All I could think when I hopped off of the plane was, "Was she proud of me?"

Every fiber of my being was screaming, "No."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I got the phone call early in the morning. Well, Kennedy got the phone call early in the morning and threw the phone into my bunk. He didn't like being woken up, neither did I. I remember growling a "what" into the phone and have my dad bark back a string of curses at me. Then he delivered the news. I caught the first flight home, with Tim's blessing and aid. It was the second time I left my band this tour, but they understood this time. This time I was leaving them for a girl, just like last time, but this time, the girl I was leaving them for was dead.

My grandmother, the one who believed in me the most, was gone.

I was a complete wreck.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I stepped off of the plane and made my way to baggage claim. Whoever was picking me up would surely meet me there. Having no phone made traveling boring and slightly more of a challenge. I watched my bag move around the carousel, but made no move to grab it. I felt as if all of the life had been sucked out of me, and I was just an empty shell of a person. I hadn't cried yet, and that was what scared me. Then I would know how real all of this really was.

I felt arms wrap around me from the side, I didn't have to look to know who it was, I could smell the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"I'm sorry Corny, I know how much she meant to you."

"It's okay, Lainey. Thank you," I replied and kept my eyes on my bag, making yet another loop around the carousel. Peyton watched it go by as well, neither of us breaking the embrace we had. I needed it, and she knew it. She always knew when I needed her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I didn't go home just yet, although Peyton insisted I go see my parents. I wasn't ready for that.

"Take me somewhere else," I pleaded from the passenger seat, looking from the window to her. I had forgotten how weird seeing her pregnant was. I was used to it while I was at home, but after I had been away for a month, she looked like a foreign person to me. Her stomach was touching the steering wheel, her face a tiny puffier than usual. She wasn't due for another three weeks and by then Kennedy would be home. I would only be home for a few days. I would only miss three shows at the most, but that was a lot. That is a lot of kids I am disappointing, but right now, what could I do? I was home for my granny, to pay my respects and see my family through this tragedy. The fans would surely understand that. Peyton took me to her house, and I was grateful. She lost the crutch and was walking on a boot, but it was entertaining to see her pregnant self, trying to waddle on a boot. What I wasn't prepared to walk into was a screaming baby, a very tired looking Sophia, a hyper Olivia who ran and clung to my leg, and Julia, just sitting on the couch, Will in her lap, observing it all.

"She won't stop crying," Sophia sighed, wiping her forehead.

"Julia, you couldn't have helped?" Peyton asked, sitting her bag on the coffee table, waddling towards Sophia.

"I had my kid," Julia shrugged. "I did all of this. I am done with all of this. Nobody helped me except Garrett. You have to learn how to deal with these things."

"Jesus Peyton," Sophia groaned, looking horrified. "You have to deal with this with TWO babies."

"Way to scare her even more," Julia gawked at Sophia.

"Just please, PLEASE make her stop," Sophia said, covering her ears.

"Go get some sleep," I ordered Sophia. She looked at me and mouthed a "thank you."

"Hey kiddo," I smiled down at Olivia, who had yet to let go of my leg.

"I'm sorry granny O'Callaghan died, uncle John. She always gave me candy."

"She always gave me candy too," I smiled at her and then leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I missed you, kid."

"I always miss you when you're gone," she said, letting go of my leg. She started running down the hallway, and Will climbed down off of Julia's leg and tottered off after Olivia.

"They're inseparable. Drives me nuts," Julia said with a shrug.

I chuckled and watched Peyton pick up Amelia. She seemed so at ease and knew what to do.

She was going to make a great mother.

Would I make a great father?

I can't even take care of a dog, what makes me think I could take care of a kid. Kids freak me out. And the fact that I didn't know what to do freaked me out even more.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The funeral was tomorrow, and I knew I had to go home eventually. My dad kept calling Peyton, but I refused to talk to him. One thing you need to know about my dad: he was one person you didn't want to talk to when something major had just happened. He's overpowering and wants to talk about feelings.

I, on the other hand, didn't want to talk about my feelings. I didn't want to talk about anything at all, so I went to see my friend who wouldn't talk about it.

It all started with a phone call. One phone call to my best friend, Halvo.

That was how it started. That was how Halvo and I went out and got shit-faced.

That was how I was probably one of the few people to ever roll up to their grandmother's funeral hung over.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When I walked into the funeral home, I couldn't take my sunglasses off, because the light made me want to chop my head off. The look on my dad's face made me want to kill myself rather than face him and my grandmother's body lying in the casket creeped me out. My dad clasped his hand on my shoulder, ordered me to take my sunglasses off and say goodbye to my grandmother. As far as I was concerned, my glasses were not coming off and my grandmother was already gone. How was me talking to her cold, stiff body going to make a difference? Luckily, as were walking that slowly painful walk to the casket, a familiar face walked through the door. I shook my dad off and made my way towards her. I could hear my dad let out his frustration with me, but I figure by now, he would know how I am when things like this happen.

Peyton wrapped her arms around me, and I returned the embrace, a slight smile tugging at my lips. Only she could make my grandmothers funeral bearable.

"Thank you for coming," I murmured against her hair. Her stomach was making our embrace a little awkward, but I don't think she minded, and I know I didn't.

"I loved granny O'Callaghan," she smiled, looking at me. "She always gave me candy."

"Damn right she did," I laughed and grabbed Peyton's hand. I led her towards the seats. My dad's stare was boring a hole in the side of my face, but I refused to look. I was here to say goodbye to my grandmother my own way.

As soon as the service started I wanted to leave. The way they kept talking about her in the past tense saying, "She was…" or "She had…" was killing me. Sometime through the service Peyton grabbed my hand, and I didn't notice until halfway through. I didn't notice until my dad informed the whole room, myself included, that I was to say some nice words about my grandmother.

"What?" I whispered to Peyton, who squeezed my hand harder. "They didn't tell me I was doing this."

"You've been avoiding them for the past few days," Peyton whispered back.

"Fuck," I sighed, slowly standing up and walking towards the front. I took my spot behind the podium and gripped it for dear life. I looked around at all of the faces, my Aunt Deb, my uncle Harry, my cousins, and I realized that they were all hurting as much as I was. It may look like I didn't care, but inside I was a wreck.

"Grandma Rose bought me my first guitar." I started, still looking around. My eyes landed on my mom and dad. My mom was smiling, holding a tissue to her eyes; my dad was glaring, motioning for me to take off my sunglasses. I pulled them off of my face, and rubbed my eyes. Hangover was in full force. "I don't remember her ever saying a mean or cross word to me. I don't remember her ever yelling at me, not even when Shane and I broke her favorite vase," I chuckled, playing with my sunglasses in my hand. "She went to my first show ever," I said, recalling the memory. "She told me that I looked handsome, and didn't understand why I didn't face the crowd the whole time. She said, 'You're an O'Callaghan! O'Callaghan's don't get stage fright. O'Callaghan's excel at everything.' She told me she was proud of me that day, and so many people told me that same thing, but it only meant something coming out of her mouth." I set the glasses on the podium and looked around the room again. "Have you ever wondered if someone died proud of you?" I asked nobody in particular. "Would she be proud of all of us?" I ran my fingers through my hair and grabbed my sunglasses. "All I know is that you would never leave her house hungry. She had a closet full of candy." I chuckled to myself, earning some chuckles in return. "I always-" but apparently that was the end of my speech.

There was a shriek, there were a few gasps, and then there was a Peyton, standing up, looking right at me and saying calmly, "It's time."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	12. In Fate's Hands

I had been fumbling with Peyton's cell phone for a while now, working up the nerve to call Kennedy. Once I told him, that would bit it, it would make this whole situation real. All of the mystery, the confusion, the drama; it would all be over. I slid the unlock button across the screen and saw the picture of Kennedy and Peyton at their wedding, her phone's background. It was making me sick to my stomach.

I sighed and scrolled through her contacts list. Hopefully Kennedy was still on the plane. I doubted it. I couldn't be so lucky. I pushed the call button and felt my heart drop when it finally connected.

"Peyton?" he practically yelled into the receiver. I heard the noise in the background and knew he was at the airport.

"John." I sighed, and I swore I could picture his disappointment.

"Well?"

"Uh," I was stalling.

"John, just tell me what's going on. How is Peyton? How are the twins?"

I heard his words, but they weren't registering.

"John you are scaring me. What is going on?"

I hung up. I couldn't form words.

/\\/\\/\\/\\

I broke half a dozen traffic laws driving Peyton to the hospital. Julia's constant screaming at me wasn't helping anything. My stomach was one giant knot. This was it. I was going to be a dad. Maybe.

This is the part that wasn't fair. Either way, Kennedy would be a dad. If the twins were mine, he would be their step dad. If they were his, I was just Uncle John. I would be an uncle to two kids that I regarded as my own for so long. About five months long.

Once we reached the hospital it was a blur. It was as if life my life was passing me by on fast-forward and I was standing still. Next thing I knew, I was feeding Peyton ice chips in her room. The doctor had yet to come in, just the nurse, monitoring her contractions.

"He's going to be mad he missed this," Peyton said with a shrug, fidgeting with her phone continuously.

"I would be mad." I nodded. "You know," I paused, thinking. "Maybe Granny Rose dying was fate. It brought me here, you know. I am the one with you on one of the most important and potentially scariest days of your life."

Peyton smiled at the idea and grabbed my hand. "You're a good man John Cornelius O'CallaghAAAAAAAAAN."

"Jesus, another one of those things?" I asked, watching the monitor, and wincing as she cut off the circulation to my fingers. "Are you sure you don't want the drugs?"

"It's over," she smiled and but didn't bother to let go of my hand. "Praise Justin you aren't a wimp like my husband."

"Don't be fooled by my calm, cool, extremely attractive exterior. I am an even bigger wimp than he is. I just hide it better."

And then the one thing, the one piece of this giant mess that I had forgotten walked through the door. Her voice alone was enough to make me squeeze Peyton's hand harder.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Well, actually I wasn't even supposed to be here, but Doctor Jones is running late so she called me to…" she finally looked up from Peyton's chart and met my icy glare. She never picked her sentence back up. She only stared. Peyton gave my hand a little squeeze. A boost of confidence, but it didn't work.

"John," she nodded towards me, biting her bottom lip out of nervousness.

"You know, I would greet you back, but I don't know your name."

She didn't even give me a response. She looked like I killed her cat.

I kept my eyes on her the whole time she ran tests on Peyton. I hadn't seen her since the cops made us go our separate ways in New Orleans. Peyton and "Parker" were speaking in hushed tones, but I overheard some of it.

Parker wasn't expecting me to be here. That makes two of us. Parker is just a nursing student. She isn't a doctor. She wasn't supposed to be here. When Peyton started having yet another contraction, it was Parker who held her hand. I glared at her again. That was supposed to be me.

/\\/\\/\\

Two hours passed and I was getting antsy. Apparently these things, you know, births, they take a while. The doctor still hasn't even shown up. Parker came in about every twenty minutes to check on Peyton, who was as calm as a cucumber. It was as if she had children every day and there was nothing to it.

"So have you thought of any names?" Parker asked, writing something in Peyton's chart.

"Not really," Peyton shrugged. "It's hard to pick names given our situation you know."

"What situation?"

Oh. I don't recall ever telling Parker that this could be my child. Oh well. Peyton looked at me and shook her head. I could see her actively stop herself from clucking her tongue at me.

"Oh nothing. I just never get to see my husband, not a lot of time to talk about it."

"That's got to be hard," Parker said, acting as if she cared.

"The situation is," I started, standing up, "that those twins may not be her husband's."

"John!" Peyton said, but then she looked from me to Parker and shrugged, telling me it was my choice to fill her in or not.

"There is as much of a chance that those kids are mine. So it's kind of hard picking out names until we know who's they are, you know?"

Parker was suddenly VERY interested on something she had written down and couldn't even look at me. She didn't say anything.

It was then that Doctor Jones jogged into the room, apologizing for being late. Parker set the chart down and practically ran out of the door. Peyton shot me a look and mouthed the word, "Go."

I shook my head.

"Go." She said, interrupting Doctor Jones. I shook my head again.

"John Cornelius, I swear to Justin Richards if you don't go I will make you regret it for the rest of your life. More than you already will."

"Why should I go after her?" I asked, remaining calm. Doctor Jones just gave up trying to apologize for being late and exited the room.

"Because you've been moping around ever since New Orleans. She's here. You're here. Neither of you were supposed to be here. It's fate."

It's fate. Those two words just kept echoing around in my head, over and over.

"It's fate," I sighed, standing up and kissing Peyton on the cheek before I ran after Parker.

I didn't know which way she went. I searched every place I could think of. Eventually my journey led me to the parking deck, where I saw her blue Jetta jet away from me. I would have reached her in time if I had not bickered with Peyton and went after her the second she left.

/\\/\\/\\

"Couldn't find her, could you?" Peyton asked the moment I walked through the door.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, plopping down on the chair.

"I'm good at reading you," she shrugged. She had me there.

"I'm glad I couldn't find her," I said, finally thinking about it.

"Why?"

"She's a liar, Peyton. I finally allow myself to feel something for someone and she turns out to be a liar. I don't need that in my life."

"Remember when you used to be a liar?"

"That was different."

"Lies are lies in everybody's eyes, John. A lie is a lie."

"I hate it when you are right."

"You must hate it a lot. I am always right." She smiled at me. It was then that Doctor Jones came into the room.

"Not to alarm you Peyton, but we need to get you prepped for surgery."

"Prepped for… wait. Why?" I asked, grabbing Peyton's hand again.

"Nothing to be alarmed about. There is less amniotic fluid than we would normally like. Also, one of the twins has managed to wrap the chord around it's neck. So the surgery needs to happen as soon as possible."

"Wow. Do what you have to do, Doctor." Peyton said. She waited until Doctor Jones left and looked at me.

"This is serious?" I asked.

"No. It's not really serious," she reassured me, but I could see something in her eyes that didn't comfort me at all. Fear.

By the time they had Peyton and I prepped for surgery (I got to go in, of course) I was scared. I was scared of so many things. What if something happened to Peyton? What if something happened to one of the twins? What if something happened to both of the twins? What if I wasn't the father? What if I was the father? What if I was a bad father? Then I saw Peyton lying on that table, waiting for me to come hold her hand. My thoughts drifted back to that first worry. What if something happened to Peyton? People die every day. What if it was her day?

"Come here, O'Callaghan," she smiled at me, holding out her hand. Everyone was in place to deliver these twins, they were just waiting on me. There was a screen blocking the view of the rest of Peyton's body. Thank goodness. I didn't handle blood very well.

I grabbed Peyton's hand and watched as that fear I saw in her eyes earlier changed completely. Her eyes were sparkling. She was excited. She was about to be a mother. I kissed her forehead. A few minutes later there was a cry. I looked down and Peyton who had tears in her eyes. She was smiling and gripping my hand harder. The doctor started saying something about the chord, but I was too focused on Peyton to listen. I watched as Peyton's eyes started to flutter closed and the machine to start beeping.

It all happened so fast. I was pushed out of the way, and then dragged out of the room. They had to rip my hands away from Peyton. I started beating on the door, not that it would do any good. I had to get back in there. I had to be with her, no matter what.

I was still fidgeting with the cell phone in my hands after hanging up on Kennedy when the doctor sat down next to me.

It was never good when they sat down next to you.

"Sorry about shoving you out like that," she said, clasping her hand on my shoulder.

"Is she…" I started, but had no idea how to even finish that sentence. Is she dead? Is she alive?

"We put her under too much stress. Twins is a lot to handle, especially for 8 months. What happened in there was a result of that stress. It happens rarely, but it does happen. We were just lucky that she was on that table, or you could have lost her."

My head shot up and all I could do was stare at Doctor Jones. "Could have lost her. She's okay?"

"Of course. They are all okay," Doctor Jones smiled and stood up. "She's asking for you."

I took off down the hall and bounded into Peyton's room. She smiled at me the second she saw me. I grabbed her hand and kissed her forehead again.

"Where are they?" I asked.

"I told the nurse to bring them in here in a few minutes. I wanted to be with you when I first saw them,"

"You haven't seen them yet?" I asked, surprised.

She shook her head and sat up.

"John," she started. I could tell this was important by the tone she chose to use. "If these babies aren't," she paused, thinking. "If they aren't yours, are you going to be okay?"

"I will have no choice but to be okay. Lainey, is it the most selfish thing in the world if I hope with everything I have these twins are mine?"

"Of course not," she said, reaching up to run her fingers through my hair. The sound of the door opening had my stomach in knots, but the sight of Kennedy instead of the nurse made me angry.

"Kenny!" Peyton smiled, waiting for him to make his way towards her. As fate would have it, he made it here just as they were bringing the twins in. We would all find out who's they were together. All three of us watched the nurses wheel the twins in. All I saw was thick, dark brown hair. Thick dark brown hair and what appeared to be brown eyes.

I looked to Peyton, who looked back at me. Even if we did a paternity test, the results would just confirm what we already knew.

Kennedy Brock fathered the most beautiful twins I have ever laid my eyes upon. One twin was wrapped in a pink blanket, the other in a blue. Identical twins. I tried not to watch as his face broke out in a smile that radiated through the whole room. I tried not watch him and Peyton coo over their newborn children.

"I have been thinking about names for a while," Kennedy said, sitting down and staring down into the bundle of pink blankets.

"Really?" Peyton asked, smiling. What do you have so far?"

"I like Piper."

"Piper," Peyton said, looking over at me. "I like Piper. What about Piper Camden?"

It was a beautiful name. I just wished I got a say.

"Piper Camden Brock," Kennedy said, planting a tiny kiss to the newborn's forehead. "It's perfect."

"I like Lucas. Lucas William Brock," Peyton said, looking over at Kennedy. He smiled. It was settled. They named their children. The children that weren't mine.

"I'm going to go to the waiting room and tell everyone how it went." I told Peyton. She gave me a sad smile and nodded.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. As soon as I stepped out of that room, I let the tears fall. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't it.

I sucked it up and started making my way to the waiting room when I crashed into someone.

"It never fails, does it?" I asked, hopping back up and offering Parker my hand. She forced a smile and let me help her up.

"How did everything go?" she asked, dusting off her jeans.

"Everything went fine," I shrugged, hoping any trace that I had been crying was gone, but I again, I wasn't so lucky. She examined my face and grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered. It amazed me how it calmed me down, having her hold my hand.

"Why did you come back?" I asked, hoping that maybe she came back for me, to check on me, or maybe to talk about us.

"I left something here," she said, letting go of my hand and running her fingers through her hair.

"Oh," I said. Her eyes kept darting behind me, like there was someone there, or maybe there was something back there I wasn't supposed to see. When I looked there was nothing. "Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded, but when she looked behind me this time, she sighed.

"I thought I told you to wait with grandma," she said.

"You did, but I wanted to be with you."

"I told you I would be back in a few minutes."

I turned around to see who she was talking to.

My world spun as I saw the four year old me skipping down the hallway.

My breath hitched in my throat and it was hard for me to breathe.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," she muttered under her breath.

"What is this?" I asked, staring down at the child that had my green eyes and my blonde hair.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," she repeated.

"What is going on?" I asked.

"I was hoping you would have remembered me, but we only met two or three times. This is why I wanted to talk to you when I called you after New Orleans, John."

"You're name is John too?" four year old me asked 22 year old me.

I stared at Parker and it all came back to me. She had brown hair back then We met at a few parties at ASU, one of which we got a little too drunk. Her name started with a J. I thought for a few seconds until it finally came to me. It was Jordan. I looked back down at four year old me and squatted so that I was on his level.

"My name is John," I nodded. "John Cornelius O'Callaghan the fifth," I said sticking my hand out.

"Mom, this man has the same name as I do," he smiled and placed his little hand in mine. "Except mine is the sixth."

"Please don't be mad at me. I tried to find you when I found out that I was pregnant but then I found out that you dropped out. Of course I saw you were in a band, and I didn't want to weigh you down with any of this. I just," she paused and closed her eyes. I could tell she was fighting back tears. "I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you."

"Why did you change your name?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"I had an ex boyfriend who tried to take John from me. He couldn't because he wasn't his real father, but he wasn't a nice guy."

"He was a jerk," John said, wrapping his arm around Parkers leg. I couldn't stop staring at this child. He was mine. Now I knew how Kennedy felt when he saw Olivia.

"Please don't be mad at me," she repeated.

"I have a son," I said, more to myself than to anyone in particular.

"You what?" Julia said as she rounded the corner, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw my mini me.

"Julia. This is Parker and this is John." I said, motioning to each of them.

"Is this real life?" Garrett asked, looking at John as well. Soon everyone we knew was gathered in the small hallway of the hospital, looking at the son I had gained on the day I lost a son and a daughter. I didn't know what to feel.

I didn't know how to act.

I didn't know why anything in my life wasn't normal.

/\\/\\/\\

"You have every right to hate me," Parker said, running her fingertips up and down John's arm. He was asleep on her lap. I was at her house in Gilbert, trying to make sense of all of this.

"I don't hate you, Parker. I promise," I smiled a small smile at her and then continued studying John. "It's a lot to process. I have never been good at making sense of things."

"He asks about his dad a lot."

"Really? What do you tell him?"

"That his dad is a rock star," she smiled. I chuckled and then sighed.

"I didn't think things like this actually happened, you know. This happened to Kennedy. His ex girlfriend kept their daughter a secret for three years. It's funny though, because I guess the same year is when I had a son I didn't know about."

"You're taking this better than I thought you would have."

"I want to be in his life." I said, surprising even myself. I just met this kid, but he was my kid.

"I want you to be in his life," she nodded. "And mine."

I stared at her, wanting her to continue.

"In New Orleans, you made me feel like I could do anything. You made me feel smart and confident. You made me feel like a person again. I haven't felt that in a long time."

I let the words settle around me and studied her. Her green eyes were just as mesmerizing as they were that day on the plane.

"I'm not home often. I tour nine months out of the year. I can't promise you that I will be the best thing for you or for John, but I promise you, Parker, that I will try. I will make sure that I am a good dad for John. I have to be," I smiled, looking down at his sleeping figure. Parker gently arranged John on the couch and grabbed my hand, pulling me behind her. As soon as we stepped onto the back porch, her lips found mind and her hands knotted themselves in my hair.

I knew then that I may not love her right now, but I would.

I knew then that I would marry her, not right now, but I would.

I did fall in love with her.

I did marry her one year later.

I was a great father to John, who was one hell of a kid, just as Kennedy was an amazing father to Piper and Lucas, as well as Olivia. As good as Garrett was with Will.

This may be an unexpected ending to you. You may not have gotten then ending that you wanted, but I did. I got exactly what I wanted.

I hope you get what you want, and don't stop fighting until you get it.


End file.
